Rockstar
by DazzledIn2008
Summary: Older Edward sings original music in local clubs, yearning for the big time, and meets a much younger girl who wants nothing to do with him. Mature. Edward and Bella.
1. Chapter 1

**ROCKSTAR**

 **AN: Glad to be back! This story is over 3 ½ years in the making. My inspiration for this story is not you-know-who, but Chris Cornell, who left us so suddenly a few months ago. RIP Chris… This is for you… (Notes at the end).**

 **All things _Twilight_ belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1**

"Fuck off, grandma."

I turned my back to the fat, old lady behind me.

She had a friend with her, equally fat and old - I had seen them both at a couple of my previous gigs, but tonight, they had pushed their way to the front, singing and giggling and trying to get my attention, then they followed me to the bar after my first set. It was distracting and fucking humiliating.

If they kept it up for the second set, I was going to get the bouncer to throw them both out on their saggy, well-padded asses.

I took a long, last pull on my cigarette, letting the hot, nicotine-rich smoke fill my lungs and calm my nerves. I exhaled slowly, then flicked the butt in a high, orange-tipped arc to the other side of the bar.

My break was over, so I downed the rest of my cheap bourbon and slipped backstage. My old beat-up acoustic was lying on the couch where I had left it earlier, so I grabbed it, adjusted the strap, and checked the tuning. I dragged my hand repeatedly through my long, messy hair as I ran through the first song in my head. Women loved my hair, which is why I kept it long, but they were starting to mention the increasing strands of gray. If it kept up, I was going to have to change my chick-banging demographic.

I loved what I did. I loved music and performing. But right now, all I wanted was to fuck the tall, leggy blonde who was licking her lips and eyeing my dick during my first set. It wouldn't take much effort on my part - all I had to do was lock it down. I hadn't had regular pussy for almost a year, and it wasn't that I wasn't getting it, it was just that I was growing tired of the chase. And I was too fucking old for the whole fucked up scene.

I walked back onstage.

It was a pretty good crowd for this shitty little club, and I was a little surprised that they stayed through the break. Sometimes, no matter how great the response, I almost always lost half the crowd between sets.

A few of them clapped when they saw me, and one drunk guy in the back howled, long and loud.

"Hey," I said into the mic, as much a sound test as a greeting. "Thanks for, uh, hanging around."

I wasn't much of a talker. I just wanted to get up there and do my thing, share my music, perform. I was almost 32 years old and had been doing this - writing, playing, singing - since I was 14, but I had long ago given up on the idea of being discovered, being famous, locking down a contract. It just wasn't in the cards for me.

Fuck it. And fuck them.

"Uh… this is one I wrote."

There was more polite applause and another howl from the drunk guy in the back, but as I started to play, they quieted, and I fed on their reaction, their energy, their growing attention.

It was a great song, and I really liked playing it first in the set – a slow, teasing start, a hard-driving climax in the middle, then a soft, sweet finish. It was supposed to be like really good sex, and it always got the crowd worked up. My voice was generally deep and gravelly, but I could hit high notes too, notes that surprised people. When I played the last chord of the song, the audience erupted in mad applause and supportive yells.

The intensity of their response surprised me a little, and I almost smiled. They weren't that loud in the first set, but then again, they weren't that drunk then either. There was a fine balance between being lit enough to be open and responsive and being offensively drunk, rude, and disruptive. The latter tended to get me into bloody, painful fights that always ended with me in the ER. Or in jail. Or both.

"Thanks," I mumbled into the microphone, my eyes searching out and finding the leggy blonde. I gave her a quick wink and my lopsided smirk, the one my ex-wife said used to make her panties wet. Of course, that was before the vicious fighting that ended our short marriage. The blonde batted her eyes a few times to let me know she received the message, and then she licked her lips in an almost obscene display of agreement. Oh, hell yeah.

* * *

It was hot as hell in the small room, both from the burning lights and the sweating crowd, and I pushed the sleeves of my t-shirt up to my elbows, exposing the faded colors of years-old tattoos on my forearms. My chest and arms were generously covered in ink as well, some deep and meaningful and thought out, others the unfortunate result of an excess of drugs and liquor.

I worked my way through the set, an intricate balance of soft and hard, slow and fast, sweet and cold perfected over the years. The energy in the room was fucking incredible, and by the time I reached the end of the last song, both the audience and blonde were mine.

"Thanks… ah… thanks," I said, over and over as they continued to applaud. "Really, thanks… Wow." I ran my hand through my sweaty hair. "Seriously, thanks."

Finally, the noise started to wane, and I took the opportunity to grab my guitar and head backstage. Just as I turned the corner, I looked over my shoulder and met the blonde's eyes. I cocked my head towards the door I was walking through, a small, subtle movement, an invitation for her to join me. I hoped she got it, and I walked backstage.

Backstage. That was a fucking joke. It was more like a storage closet, a room next to the men's room with worn carpet and water stains on the ceiling, but it had - in addition to a wall of shelves filled with supplies - a couch, a table, and a small fridge. It was basically just a place to keep my stuff while I performed and to hide between sets if I needed it. I grabbed a beer from the fridge - Garrett kept bottled water in it for everyone else… for me, he kept Heineken. I barely had the cap off and taken one long swallow when the blonde walked in.

* * *

 **AN: Hi again! This story will contain short chapters, about 2 pages or so each, and I'll try to post every other day or so (except weekends might be hard, so please forgive me in advance.) It's 24 total chapters.**

 **Please note that although _inspired_ by Chris Cornell, it's obviously not really him, so please don't take offense to the asshole-like qualities that you might see in _Rockstar_ 's Edward - at least for now.**

 **Feel free to ask me questions, which I reserve the right not to answer :)**

 **I really hope you like this one. I sure do.**

 **Special thanks to my beta, LibbyLou862, for always being there, dotting my i's and crossing my t's, and being game for whatever I have in mind. There is no better beta, or friend, on the entire planet.**

 **Okay, see ya in a few days!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2**

 _Backstage. That was a fucking joke. It was more like a storage closet, a room next to the men's room with worn carpet and water stains on the ceiling, but it had - in addition to a wall of shelves filled with supplies - a couch, a table, and a small fridge. It was basically just a place to keep my stuff while I performed and to hide between sets if I needed it. I grabbed a beer from the fridge - Garrett kept bottled water in it for everyone else… for me, he kept Heineken. I barely had the cap off and taken one long swallow when the blonde walked in..._

* * *

"Beer?" I asked, holding the bottle up to show her mine.

She just smiled and shook her head as she dropped her purse on the floor and closed the door behind her, leaning against it.

And that answered my second question.

"Alright," I mumbled to myself with a small grin. I took one more pull from my bottle, then set it down on the small, wooden table.

I walked over to her until my body was pressed against hers, my hands on the door above her head. She was breathing hard already, and her big, fake tits were rubbing against my chest with each gasping breath.

I was covered in sweat, my t-shirt clinging to my skin. I always sweat a lot on stage - the hot lights, the crowd - and the blonde showed up so quickly, I hadn't had time to change my shirt. If things went as I hoped, she would smell like me when she left. Fucking twisted of me, since I knew I would never see her again, whether she wanted to or not. Yeah, she was definitely worth a fuck, but I was never gonna take a girl like that home.

I leaned into her neck and whispered in her ear.

"You want this?" I asked, rubbing my rapidly-hardening cock against her thigh. I was rutting on her like an animal in heat, but I didn't care. She obviously wanted my dick, and I was more than willing to oblige.

She whimpered and nodded her head, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. It threw me for a second. It looked like she was suddenly completely passive, waiting for me to take the lead. I mean, I'm all for that here and there, but in general, I wanted my women to take as much as give. I was in no mood for a dead fish.

But then she lifted her head, growled like an animal, and palmed my junk, hard - like suddenly way, way too aggressive. The complete opposite end of the spectrum. Shit, maybe this chick was a little unhinged, half a schizo. It could happen. Actually, it _had_ happened.

But fuck it, I was wound up. I wanted in, no matter the level of crazy.

So I grabbed the back of her neck, my fingers pulling hair until she winced, and kissed her, _hard_ , all teeth and tongues and lips - messy and wet and noisy. She opened her legs, and I moved in quickly, rubbing my dick against her, not so much for her, but just to make myself feel good. She just happened to be there.

Then, she just stopped. Pulled back from my mouth and pushed me away from her, _hard…_ hard enough that I had to take a step back. Fuck, I thought, what the hell was that? Was that it? Did I step over the line somewhere? Misread some cues?

I stood there, breathing hard, my dick pressing painfully against my zipper, waiting to see what her fucking problem was. Goddamned cock tease.

Several seconds passed, just standing there, staring at each other, and then she took a single step towards me, pressing her hands on my shoulders, pushing me backwards again. She kept pushing until the back of my legs hit the couch, and then pushed me again until I was sitting.

She grinned and dropped to her knees between my legs.

Ah. Okay. Now I understood what was going on, and I was completely onboard. I even unzipped my pants for her, gentleman that I was.

I was about to tell her to get busy and suck me, when she reached in and took my cock out of my pants, and with absolutely no hesitation, she dove in.

"Fuck!" I screamed in the small, dingy room. It was all or nothing with this woman, and I was, of course, completely in favor of _all_ , but she was like a psychotic metronome, back and forth, tick tock. I flexed my hips up, trying my damndest to meet the dizzying rhythm of her mouth, burying my dick as far as it would go, and she never fucking flinched. No cough, no gag, no watery eyes. Just warm and wet and oh fuck, so much sensation.

I leaned my head back against the wall, closed my eyes, and rode the wave. She had a good mouth, like a fucking Hoover, and as hard as she was working, it wouldn't take me long at all.

Then, out of nowhere, the door burst open, hitting the wall with a crack and bouncing halfway back.

"What the _fuck_ is going on in here?" someone yelled, really loud and obnoxious.

I popped my head up to see what was going on, what fucker was interrupting critical moments in my stellar blow-job, and I quickly pushed the blonde's head away so I could cover myself and fix my pants. She looked at me angrily as she lost her balance and fell on her ass.

I ignored her and looked at the interruption standing in the doorway.

It was a girl, a tiny, little thing with long, brown hair. She had her hands on her hips trying hard to look like a badass and failing miserably. I almost laughed. I mean, she couldn't have been more than 17 or 18 years old, 5-feet tall, 100 pounds soaking wet.

And she was glaring at me.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you so much for the response and the kind words on Chapter 1! I hope you keep reading, and I hope you like this story! It's a rollercoaster! :) Di8**

 **Thanks always to my beta extraordinaire, LibbyLou862!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3**

 _I ignored her and looked at the interruption standing in the doorway._

 _It was a girl, a tiny, little thing with long, brown hair. She had her hands on her hips trying hard to look like a badass and failing miserably. I almost laughed. I mean, she couldn't have been more than 17 or 18 years old, 5-feet tall, 100 pounds soaking wet._

 _And she was glaring at me._

* * *

"Who the fuck are _you_ , little girl?" I was half-grinning when I said it, and my amusement seemed to piss her off even more.

" _You_ don't get to ask the questions, asshole. _I_ do. I fucking _work_ here, and I'm sure Garrett wouldn't appreciate knowing that you and your little whore were getting sticky liquids and dick cheese on his furniture!"

I stood up, rising to my full height, a couple inches more than 6 feet, hoping to intimidate her solely because I was a full head taller, at least. But she was unphased.

"Actually, there were no fluids involved because you fucking interrupted Blondie, here. And," I said with the most serious expression I could muster, "my dick is cheese-free."

The blonde turned her head towards us, seeing my mention of her as an opportunity to jump into our conversation.

"Hey, my name's not Blondie, it's - "

I turned to the blonde, still sprawled on the floor in front of the couch and interrupted her. I really didn't want to hear anything she had to say.

"I don't give a fuck what your name is honey. Just get your shit together and get out. We're done." I may have been a little harsh, but fuck it, my dick was still hard … hell, it was still _wet_ , but the mood was gone, and I knew I wasn't getting any relief tonight that didn't come from my own hand, thanks to the bitch in the doorway. You could say I was more than a little pissed off.

I turned back to the brunette, and noticed - a fleeting thought across my mind - that she had nice tits.

"Garrett hired you? To do what, exactly, sweetheart? What are you, the fucking maid? You mop up the vomit and the urine, clean the toilets at night?"

She glared at me, bright pink spots forming on her cheeks. My arrow had hit home, apparently.

"Uh, no," she answered innocently. "I think you're thinking of your little whore here, or maybe you were talking about your mother?" She grabbed a couple of rolls of paper towels off the shelf, tucked them under her arm, and walked calmly back to the door.

Oh, that was _it_. That fucking crossed the line. I walked quickly and purposefully across the room, which took about three steps, until I was right in front of her, literally breathing down her neck.

" _Say that again_ , you fucking bitch," I growled. "Talk about _my_ mother _again_ , and I _promise_ you, you will fucking _regret_ it."

I wasn't going to hit her. I had never hit a woman in my life. I would never do that shit, but it sounded good and threatening, and I wanted to fucking scare her off of me.

Blondie had grabbed her purse and was standing at the door waiting to leave, but Brunette was in her way. I think she was a little nervous about the confrontation she was witnessing, and didn't want the focus shifted back to her, so she kept her mouth shut. Smart move.

The brunette laughed. Like threw her head back and bottom-of-her-belly laughed.

"Oh, that's fucking _perfect_!" she roared. "You gonna _hit_ me now, asshole? Huh?" She took a step towards me until we were almost touching, and poked her finger into my chest to stress her point. "You gonna hit a _girl_?"

The blonde took that opportunity to slip out the door, unmolested.

The brunette saw her leaving out of the corner of her eye, and waggled her fingers in her direction, waving goodbye.

"Bye-bye whore, don't come back, 'kay?"

She said it in a sweet, lilting voice, one that you would use with a child, but her fiery eyes gave her away, and they never left mine.

The blonde heard what she said, and again, processed the words just a beat or two too late for a sharp retort. You could almost see the understanding as it crossed her face. Not a smart girl. The brunette grabbed the edge of the door and pushed it until it closed, and as the blonde's face disappeared, I heard her response. Or the beginning of her response, as it were.

"Hey! I'm not a -"

I looked down at her finger, still poking me in the chest, and I grabbed her hand to remove it, but she whipped it away from me like I had electrocuted her. Brunette took a step back then and lifted her arms up, wide at her sides, wiggling her fingers again, but this time at _me_. The two rolls of paper towels dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

"Bring it on _,_ big boy!" she taunted. "Come _on_ , hit me! You _know_ you want to," she said, her voice suddenly rougher, throatier, and I swear, I fucking hated this little bitch, but my dick twitched a little at that new tone in her voice. I had to admit, it was a little hot, the anger. Of course, my unsucked dick was still hard from the blonde's mouth, which was, only mere minutes ago, wetly wrapped around me, so half of my blood supply was still in my pants instead of my brain. Not my fault.

I took a deep breath and stepped back. Someone had to back off and end this, and unfortunately, it was going to have to be me. Besides, I thought I could get one last dig in this way. Win-win.

"Okay, okay, back off, Thunderdome." I held my hands up in mock surrender. "You wanna get hit so badly, you might want to go to The Dungeon downtown - they'll take good care of you there… get your ass spanked bright red for being such a bad, little girl… all for a reasonable price." I was using that same childlike voice that she used with the blonde. I turned away from her and waved dismissively. "Go home to mama, little bird. Fly away. Shoo."

I could hear her breathing behind me, huffing angrily. I was more than a little worried that she was about to launch herself on my back like a spider monkey. But then, I heard the distinct sound of crinkling plastic, which I assumed was Brunette picking up the paper towels she dropped when she went all Fiddy Cent on my ass. She made a little noise, like a gurgling, suppressed scream, and she stormed out of the room, slamming the door against the wall again, exactly the same as when she entered.

I dragged my hand through my hair and then across my face, staring at the empty doorway. I grabbed my beer and fell back on the couch, the scene of the crime of my very recent but sadly incomplete blow-job. I took a long pull from the bottle and looked around the shitty room.

Jesus, what the fuck was that?

* * *

 **AN: Happy Friday! I decided to go ahead and give you this chapter today, so that I can get on a regular M-W-F schedule next week (since I can't be relied on to post on weekends).**

 **One note: please remember this is fiction, MY fiction, and not real life. Sometimes characters say things or do things that are shocking or that you disagree with, and that's fine, but it IS fiction. :)**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!**

 **Major props, as always, to my fabulous beta, LibbyLou862!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4**

 _I dragged my hand through my hair and then across my face, staring at the empty doorway. I grabbed my beer and fell back on the couch, the scene of the crime of my very recent but sadly incomplete blow-job. I took a long pull from the bottle and looked around the shitty room._

 _Jesus, what the fuck was that?_

* * *

"Edward," Garrett greeted as I collapsed at the bar, my backpack and guitar case dropping at my feet. I was on my way out, exhausted from the night and still fucking hard, but I needed to get paid, and more importantly, I needed to find out who that fucking brunette was. "So… the blonde?" he said with a wink as he counted out my cash and poured us a closing shot.

"Yeah, that," I said as I tapped my glass to his and quickly downed the shot. "So, she comes back with me, and she's sucking my dick," I started, "like a fucking Hoover, man, seriously."

"So, the usual?" he laughs.

"Uh, not exactly." I pause dramatically, because I know Garrett loves hearing this shit, but he won't be expecting this particular ending. "Right when it starts to get good, that little brunette of yours storms in and fucks up my shit. Suckus interruptus, dude."

"Brunette?" Garrett asks, his brows furrowed in confusion, trying to figure out who I'm talking about.

"Yeah," I said, levelling my eyes with his, like he doesn't know who the fuck I'm talking about. "Long, brown hair. Five feet tall. About 18, _maybe_. Fucking _bitch_ , man, up in my face, cursing like a dockworker."

Garrett started laughing at my description. I didn't see what was so fucking funny. Let him trade dicks with me, then see who's laughing.

"You mean Bella? Seriously? She got up in your face? For what?"

Bella? Her name was Bella? Why did that suddenly quell one fire and light another? Shit.

"If that's her name. Who the fuck is she, Garrett? She said she works for you, and she screamed at me, got up in my face, and called the blonde a whore."

He was still fucking laughing.

"Jesus, Edward, Bella is my fucking little _cousin_. I hired her to help out around here, in the office, at the bar, whatever. She just graduated, needed a job. She's fucking harmless, dude!" He slapped the bar to make his point, like I was a pussy or something.

"How little, Garrett? I mean," I cleared my throat, "how old is she? I don't want to get arrested by this chick or anything."

Why the hell did I ask him that? Why do I care? As soon as I said "arrested," he got real fucking quiet and serious.

"She just turned 21. She just looks like jailbait." He muttered that last part, almost to himself. "Wait… Why?" he glared. "What the fuck did you do, Cullen? Did you touch her?" His voice got real quiet, and I thought he was going to come across the bar at me. "If you fucking touched her, _I'm_ going to _fuck_ up your shit, and right fucking now."

Jesus, what was with this night and everyone fucking attacking me?

"Calm down, Garrett," I said. "I didn't touch her, that's not what I'm talking about." I quickly recounted the entire story, adding every gory, humiliating detail to make sure he had an accurate picture of his little bitch of a cousin and how she verbally, and with one finger in my chest, _physically_ assaulted me. When I finished, he just started chuckling to himself again while he wiped down the bar. Fucking pissed me off.

I was staring at him, willing him to look up at me so I could make sure he knew that I wasn't amused, when _she_ came waltzing up to the bar. "She" - meaning the bitch - the brunette bitch. For a few seconds, she almost looked like a normal chick, smiling at Garrett, leaning on the bar, until she turned to look directly at the face of the other person at the bar talking with Garrett, namely, me. Bitch bowed up immediately like a threatened cat, defensive posture, smile gone, knuckles white.

I was waiting for her to start on me again, but she held back, shut her mouth, and just waited. She had to have noticed Garrett and me talking when she walked up, not knowing who I was, just thinking that I was a friend of Garrett's, or, at the very least, a bar patron.

Since Garrett already knew my side of the story, I decided to smile at her, which I did, and I hoped that Garrett thought I was making an attempt at friendliness and concession, while secretly hoping to piss her off with my nonchalance.

Garrett looked from me to her, then back and forth a few times, smiling way too broadly, really amusing himself. That guy was going to get a nut-punch soon if he didn't stop it.

"Bella," Garrett said, "this is Edward. Edward, my cousin Bella." He nodded to both of us, waiting for us to greet each other, or shake hands, or do something that normal, non-aggressive people did. But neither of us moved. I was waiting for her to make a move, and I assumed she was doing the same. We just stared. Or _glared_ , to be slightly more accurate. "Edward is the guy who played - "

"I _know_ who he is," she interrupted, still glaring at me. She was practically spitting, suddenly so angry, much more like the girl I had met earlier. I was kind of glad, because I didn't think Garrett believed me, and I was glad he got to experience it live and in person. And, in front of me, so I could watch.

"Bella," Garrett said gently, like he was talking her down from a roof or something. "Edward's a good friend of mine, and he plays here almost every weekend." He could see that she wasn't backing down, so he continued. "And besides, he wasn't doing anything that I haven't done back there myself." Then, he grinned at me and held up his fist for a bump, which I quickly returned. "Am I right?"

"You are right, my friend," I said, returning his manly-bonding grin. I knew the testosterone display had to be pissing her off, but I was purposely ignoring her, and I couldn't see her face.

I heard her huffing again, that angry-girl breathing, and I turned to look, just in time to see her gather her things and storm out the door.

"Assholes," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

 **AN: Well, now you know who the brunette is. And you know what her connection with Garrett is. (And the blonde was no one, just a groupie and a plot device.) Now, you just have to keep reading to find out what else happens to these happy-go-lucky kids! Hahahahaha...**

 **Thanks to reader _deadliestdistractionRN_ for giving our brunette the new moniker of "Bella Balboa" - that made me GOL (Guffaw Out Loud)!**

 **I think I'll be able to keep to a regular schedule of M-W-F from now on (except for Christmas Day, but I'll TRY!).**

 **And everlasting thanks to LibbyLou862, beta and friend extraordinare!**

 **See ya Wednesday!**

 **Di8**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5**

 _I heard her huffing again, that angry-girl breathing, and I turned to look, just in time to see her gather her things and storm out the door._

 _"Assholes," she muttered under her breath._

* * *

The following weekend, I was back at the club, headlining both nights. Well, I say headlining, but I was the only act, but it sure as fuck sounded better than getting up there by myself. It was kind of pathetic, truly, but I liked Garrett. We saw eye-to-eye. I felt comfortable there.

Well, I _did_.

Now, all I could think about was running into Garrett's little cousin, Bella. And it made me feel nervous. Not that I was scared of her, or intimidated in any way, because I wasn't. Not physically, anyway.

I came in through the back door and went straight to the green room. I threw my stuff on the couch and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge.

I had just taken off the cap and put the bottle to my lips when I heard her voice in the hallway. I started to grin for some unknown reason. She had a lot of energy, and I was ready for a fight.

I debated going out in the hallway, tracking her down, pushing the confrontation, but I decided to kick back on the couch with my guitar and wait. I started to play and sing really loudly, telling myself I was warming up, but what I was really doing was letting her know I was there.

Her voice stopped. I couldn't hear her anymore, but then I heard activity right outside the door. Like maybe she was listening.

"Oh, _hell_ no," I heard her say, then the door burst open again, slamming against the wall. What is it with this chick and doors? Doesn't she know how to turn a knob and push a door open?

I didn't even fucking look up. I knew it was her, and I knew it was pissing her off that I was ignoring her.

She didn't come in. She just stood in the doorway, and I swear, I could hear her breathing… huffing… like deep, angry breaths. Jesus, I wanted to laugh out loud. Maybe I would later.

A full minute went by. Well, it felt like a minute. It could have been ten seconds. But I was determined not to speak first.

" _Well_?" she asked sarcastically.

I took my time and eventually looked up at her, and I almost lost it then. She was comically pissed off. Bright red spots on her cheeks, teeth clenched, steam coming out of her ears. I raised an eyebrow in a silent question, and went back to playing my guitar.

"Hey! You! Asshole on the couch! I'm fucking _talking_ to you!" She was still standing in the doorway, but had started to gesture wildly.

"I'm sorry, did you ask me something? I didn't hear a question," I stated calmly, picking out some chords on my guitar.

I think she started to make choking noises at that point. She was literally spitting mad. I couldn't possibly be enjoying this any more. And she was wearing a tight little white t-shirt that I could see straight through. A dark bra, maybe black? Oh, _please_ be black. Then, my perverted mind quickly reverted to images of her on my bed, naked and spread out, opening her flower wide and diving in. Fuck, there went my dick again.

"Yes, dick cheese, what the fuck are you doing here?"

I smiled sweetly at her. Her talking about my dick didn't make me any less hard, and I was thankful that I was sitting and had a guitar in my lap.

"Aw, how cute. You have a pet name for me. It really means a lot to me that you remembered." Then, an evil thought popped into my head. "Especially since I already have one for you," I smirked, baiting her. I knew if I waited long enough, she'd ask. I was sure it was killing her.

"You have... you have a _what_?" she screeched.

"Oh yeah, since that day we first met," I said with the most innocent looking grin I could muster. And I waited again. She was huffing and turning red again. So goddamned fun. She crossed her arms and glared at me, raising her eyebrows in a " _Well_?' expression.

"Yeah," I laughed. "I'm gonna call you 'Tiger' cause you are like a sweet, innocent, delicate flower, but with an attitude, like a Tiger Lily." A sweet, innocent, delicate flower that I wanted to peel open and eat until she screamed.

Dead silence. Not even breathing. It's a good thing she didn't have laser vision, because the way she was glaring at me, I would have been a steaming pile of ash.

"Ugh!" she screamed and stormed out the door. I swear she stomped her feet as she went. It was fucking turning me on, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it.

 _Tiger_. If she only knew.

* * *

My first set went well. The crowd wasn't as big or as rowdy as the previous Saturday, but they were still very responsive to my music. I saw Bella a few times, working at the bar, smiling at customers, even laughing once or twice, and I wondered what it was about me that pissed her off so much. Apparently, she was capable of being friendly, and to complete strangers. But just not to me.

I was determined to make her like me. I was sure that it was just the challenge that drew my attention. That once she started fawning on me like all the other girls did, I would no longer be interested. Strange how that happened, but it inevitably did.

I took a short break in the green room, just long enough to drink a beer and take a piss. I kept waiting for Bella to show up, to slam open open the door and start spewing profanity at me, but she never showed.

I was more than a little disappointed. Did I finally succeed in pissing her off enough to keep her away? Did the pet name thing really yank her chain that much?

* * *

 **AN: I know this was a super short one, sorry, but there was no other way to break it up where it made sense. Please forgive me!**

 **Thanks again for all the positive comments about this story! It means the world to me to have such active readers! I'm so glad that you are liking this story!**

 **Extra special thanks to my fabulous beta, LibbyLou862!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6**

 _I took a short break in the green room, just long enough to drink a beer and take a piss. I kept waiting for Bella to show up, to slam open open the door and start spewing profanity at me, but she never showed._

 _I was more than a little disappointed. Did I finally succeed in pissing her off enough to keep her away? Did the pet name thing really yank her chain that much?_

* * *

During my second set, she was on my mind, way more than she should have been. I kept looking for her in the crowd, checking at the bar, scanning every face, every white t-shirt in the crowd.

But nothing.

As the night went on, the crowd seemed more and more lackluster, or maybe it was me. Maybe my mind wasn't on my music where it should have been. When I wrapped it up for the night, there was only a light smattering of applause. What a fucking night.

I was so pissed at myself for letting her get to me like that. I swore I'd never let another chick get between me and my music again. Like I hadn't made _that_ promise a million times.

I quickly made my way to the green room to pack up, and when the door opened, I looked up half-expecting to see Bella, but my smile instantly dropped away when I saw the look on Garrett's face.

"What the fuck was _that_ , man?" he asked, exasperated.

"What?" I said, pretending I didn't know _exactly_ what he was talking about.

"That shitty set. What the hell is going on with you dude? You were completely distracted. It was fucking obvious you wanted to be anywhere but that stage, and that is not like you at all."

I dragged my hand through my hair. Shit, I guess it was noticeable then.

"Yeah, sorry, man. I don't know where my head was that second set." I took a long pull from my beer and lit a cigarette, desperately needing the calm they both brought on.

"Well, fucking get it together, okay? I fucking _lost_ sales in that second set. People were fucking walking out, and I can't afford that, you know what I mean?"

Jesus, he was really laying it on thick. Still, all I could think about was Bella, wondering if she was still in the club, if I would run into her on the way out.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, man. Truly. Tomorrow night will be back to normal, I swear."

"It better be," he sighed, exasperated. He stood there a few seconds before he turned to walk out. "See you at the bar to settle up?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'll be out in a minute."

He was almost out the door, when I suddenly called out to him.

"Hey, Garrett?" I said.

"Yeah," he said, turning just enough.

"Where's, uh, what's-her-name, your little cousin?" I tried to sound as casual as possible.

He looked confused for a second before he answered.

"Bella? I let her go early tonight. She had plans or something." He turned to walk out.

I closed my guitar case and starting flipping the locks, ready to get the fuck home, when Garrett came back into the room.

"Wait. Why are you asking about Bella? Why the fuck do you care? _Please_ tell me that she wasn't your problem tonight. I swear to fucking God, Edward, if -"

"Dude, _no_ ," I laughed. "Just curious, that's all. No problems here."

He glared at me for a full minute, then walked out of the room.

 _Shit_ , I thought. What the hell was I doing?

* * *

I met Garrett at the bar, and we were both uncharacteristically quiet. Him, because he was apparently still pissed at me, thinking I was scoping out his little cousin, and me, because I felt guilty about fucking up my second set. And I didn't want to give Garrett any ammunition to tear into me again.

He counted out my cash without saying a word, and then glared at me again, waiting for me to say something. I picked up the bills and stuck them into my pocket. No fucking way was I going to recount it in front of him when he was in this kind of mood.

He hadn't put out our shot glasses, so I figured he was pissed off enough not to have our traditional drink. So I grabbed my stuff and started to walk out.

"Hey," he called. "No shot?"

I turned back and smiled a little.

"Well, sure," I said casually. "If you're buying."

"You know I am, fuckwad. Sit your ass down."

He poured us two shots, but left the bottle on the bar. That usually meant only one thing: he wanted to drink, and he wanted to talk. That could be a good thing, or it could be a really bad thing, depending.

We picked up our glasses, toasted, and threw them back.

"Goddamn, that's some good shit," I said as the liquor burned its way down my throat.

"Another?" he asked as he poured two more.

"Why the fuck not," I said, and we downed the second shot.

We sat there for a while, shooting the shit, letting time and the booze do its job.

"So," Garrett asked. "No blonde tonight?"

"Naw, man," I answered. "Nothing interesting tonight." Of course, all I was interested in was his cousin, but there was no fucking way I was telling him that. "I was just off. Don't know what it was, but I didn't like it. You know that, Garrett. I'm all about the music. If I don't have that, I got nothing."

"Yeah, I know," he said as he poured two more shots. So that made three shots each. Fuck, I wasn't 18 anymore. I couldn't do three shots and drive home. Not like Bella. She was 21. I bet she could drink shots all night long and never -

"Edward!" Garrett yelled.

"What, man? What the fuck?"

"I was talking, and you were like, out in space or something." He put the bottle back up on the shelf. "Okay, you've had enough. You need to go home and get your shit straight. Come back tomorrow and give em what they pay for. What _I_ fucking pay you for, alright?"

"Yeah, man. I'll be here." I packed my shit and headed towards the door.

"Hey, Edward?" he asked at the last minute.

"Yeah, man."

"Stay the fuck away from my cousin, okay? She's young - too fucking young for you - and she's had a... a rough life. Her dad fucking abused her and my aunt just looked the other way, so she's kind of a mess. They were real shits to her, and I'm just trying to help her out."

"Uh, yeah, dude," I said, dragging my hand through my hair. "No problem."

I turned to walk out, anxious to end this conversation and this night, but he kept talking.

"I'm serious, Edward. Leave her the fuck alone. You fuck with her, and I'm gonna fuck with you."

"Yeah, I _got_ it, Garrett," I said, starting to get a little pissed off. "See you tomorrow."

And I walked out the door.

* * *

 **AN: Okay, so Garrett's protective... I know he's pissing Edward off, but it's also sweet how he's taking care of Bella... and trying to keep an asshole like Edward away from her! BTW, That one sentence is basically Bella's history - we're not really going to go into more detail than that... that's not the plot for this story. We've got plenty of other stuff to keep us busy between now and chapter 24! (Just didn't want anyone waiting for "the big reveal" on Bella's backstory, when there IS NO BIG REVEAL! Hahaha! Just trying to keep y'all happy!)**

 **Speaking of Edward the asshole, SassYNoleS called him "ShitWard" which made me spit my Coke out all over my computer screen!**

 **Thanks to anyone who is rec'ing this to anyone else... EdwardsFirstKiss saw it mentioned on the Pay It Forward page on Facebook, so whoever posted, I thank you for that (I think it was Frannie Walsh?)! And SunflowerFran rec'ed the story on HER FB page, so I thank HER for that! If you found my story via a rec on the Internet somewhere, please let me know where, so that I can thank that person for posting! :)**

 **The next chapter would normally be due on Monday, but since that's Christmas Day, I'm not really sure how that's gonna work out. But I swear, I'll try! Don't want to leave y'all hanging!**

 **And thank you ALL for reading and commenting! Your support means the world to me! It's so much fun to write something and be able to interact with the readers throughout the entire process!**

 **As always, LibbyLou862, beta extraordinaire, I literally couldn't do this without you! :)**

 **MERRY HAPPY TO YOU ALL!**

 **\- Di8**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7**

 _I turned to walk out, anxious to end this conversation and this night, but he kept talking._

 _"I'm serious, Edward. Leave her the fuck alone. You fuck with her, and I'm gonna fuck with you."_

 _"Yeah, I got it, Garrett," I said, starting to get a little pissed off. "See you tomorrow."_

 _And I walked out the door._

* * *

I showed up at the bar a little earlier than usual the next night. I was determined never to repeat what I did that Friday. I couldn't sleep the night before - thinking about my shitty performance - and I knew that the only fix was was a kick ass, standing-ovation-worthy, groupie-creating performance.

I had reworked my set list over and over, playing through every song in order to ensure the perfect build-up. My fingers were fucking sore and throbbing from playing for so long, but fuck it, it was gonna be an amazing night. And if Bella showed up, well that was just lagniappe.

Shit. I had to get that little bitch out of my mind, at least for one night. I wouldn't let her fuck up my groove again.

I went in the back door and laid my stuff down on the couch, then walked to the bar to let Garrett know I was there. I was determined to keep my head in the game, focused on what was important - my music.

Garrett wasn't at the bar, which was unusual, so I walked around, opened the front door and checked the front parking lot. Still no Garrett. I went back down the hallway to look in the bathrooms. Empty. Fuck. Very unusual. Garrett was always around, easy to find, making sure he was ready to open.

So, I went back to the green room to start warming up, figuring he'd find me eventually, and I stopped in my tracks when I saw Bella standing at the shelves. She had her back to me so she didn't see me walk up, and it gave me a moment to really look at her … same tight white t-shirt, pulled up and knotted, exposing more than a hint of pale skin … and the same tight, fucking _painted on_ jeans. I had never noticed before how low-rise they were, and from the back, I could see the dimples above her ass. Fucking _dimples_! My sweet, little Tiger. Holy shit, she was gonna kill me. I was never gonna be able to get that image out of my brain. Or apparently out of my dick. I was immediately half-hard, and at this rate, I'd be full mast in less than a minute.

Garrett did say she was of age, right? I fucking didn't need to get arrested.

Shit. I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. What I needed was to leave her the fuck alone. I cleared my throat and walked into the room.

She turned around quickly, like I surprised her, then bitch-browed me when she saw it was me.

"What do _you_ want, dick cheese?" she said with venom in her voice and narrowed, suspicious eyes.

I was going to try to be as civil as possible, walking that center line - I didn't want to do anything to provoke her, one way or another - but I wanted to smile that she remembered me enough to call me "dick cheese" again. And I wanted to call her by her new nickname, just to see her reaction. Her anger was so fucking hot.

"Uh … nothing," I said with as much calm and disinterest as I could muster. "Just looking for Garrett. Know where he is?"

"He's not here yet," she said with a sneer. "Why? Did you fuck something else up?"

"Something else?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, something _else_. Like other than your set last night," she laughed. "I heard it stunk like dick cheese." She turned back to the shelves and grabbed a couple of items.

Damn, that was low. I clenched my hands in tight fists. She could have said anything else, and it wouldn't have touched me, but that was below the belt, in more than one way. If she only knew the reason I sucked so badly the night before was because of _her_. I had to let it go, had to keep it even, get my focus back on my music.

"So where's Garrett?" I asked. Keep to safe subjects. Subjects not having to do with how pissed off she made me. Or how tight her jeans were. Or how I could see her nipples through that thin, white t-shirt. Or how I wanted to bury my face between her thighs.

 _Fuck_.

"He's coming in later. He asked me to open up for him." Open up for _him_? Fuck, I wanted her to open up for _me_.

" _You_?" I asked, incredulously. She was barely old enough to _drink_ liquor, let alone sell it. And what if some asshole got up in her face? No, scratch that. She could probably handle any verbal shit, but I worried more about something physical.

"Yeah, _me_ , asshole. Why? You got a problem, other than your usual?" she said, glaring at me.

"Nope. No problem here," I muttered, pulling my guitar out of the case and sitting on the couch. She was so fucking hot, just standing there, mad as hell at me for no reason other than the fact that she once interrupted a blonde sucking my dick. Maybe she was jealous. Ha. Yeah, tell yourself that Cullen. Jesus, I really needed to stop thinking about her and my dick.

I couched the guitar across my lap to cover up my erection - I didn't want to further feed her fire - and I started to pick out some random chords, stopping to tune a string here and there as I went. I bent my head down like I was listening closely to the sound, but I was really hiding my eyes, cause her tits were killing me.

Eventually, she got bored and started to walk out the door. Right as she turned to the hallway, I stopped her.

"Hey ... uh ... Bella, right?" I asked. Or my pretty, little Tiger. Whatever. She turned her head towards me, glaring, and waited for me to continue. "When Garrett gets here, can you tell him I need to talk to him?" That was the first time I had ever said her name out loud, and fuck if it didn't turn me on. I started to imagine saying it in all sorts of inappropriate situations, but thinking like that was only going to get me in trouble.

"Whatever," she spat and bolted down the hallway.

Once she was safely out of the room, I took a second to exhale, close my eyes, and remember how she looked in that t-shirt and jeans. From the back, when she was standing at the shelf, before she saw me. The dimples. The dimples in her ass. Jesus, I could _see_ them as I bent her over the couch and fucked her from behind. I could _feel_ them under the skin of my thumbs as I squeezed her hips and pulled her towards me with each hard, deep stroke.

 _Fuck_.

* * *

"Edward," Garrett said from the doorway. "Bella said you wanted to talk to me."

God, there was that name again.

"Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. I didn't really need to talk to Garrett, but I had to come up with a reason to talk to Bella earlier, and that was what I came up with on the spot. "Just wanted to let you know that I'm focused tonight, back on track, and you're gonna get a fucking tight ass show."

"Alright, brother," Garrett said with a nod. "It's all good." He walked over to the mini-fridge and grabbed a beer, popping off the cap and letting it fall to the ground. He took a long pull, then tapped the neck to my beer with a grin. "Let's rock and roll. Burn it down."

"Just watch me," I said with a wink.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the extra long delay, but the holidays kept me away from my computer. Should be back on schedule now. Hope everyone had a wonderful and safe holiday! I truly appreciate each and every one of you! And especially my fabulous beta, LibbyLou862!**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8**

 _"Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. I didn't really need to talk to Garrett, but I had to come up with a reason to talk to Bella earlier, and that was what I came up with on the spot. "Just wanted to let you know that I'm focused tonight, back on track, and you're gonna get a fucking tight ass show."_

 _"Alright, brother," Garrett said with a nod. "It's all good." He walked over to the mini-fridge and grabbed a beer, popping off the cap and letting it fall to the ground. He took a long pull, then tapped the neck to my beer with a grin. "Let's rock and roll. Burn it down."_

 _"Just watch me," I said with a wink._

* * *

My first set was fucking awesome, perfect.

The bar was packed, and the crowd was just liquored up enough to be enthusiastic. They clapped and screamed so long after each song that it extended the usual time of my set.

I could see Bella working, her white t-shirt appearing along the edges of the crowd, but I let it go. I _had_ to. I closed my eyes and felt the music, pulling the electricity from the crowd and pouring it back out for them.

They applauded loud and long after the last song, and it took me awhile to get through the crowd to the green room. The guys kept stopping me to tell me how much I fucking rocked, shaking my hand, patting me on the back. The girls touched my shoulders, my back, smiling as I brushed past them. A few of them made eye contact, and I knew I could fuck them if I wanted to - easy, without even trying. But I didn't. All I wanted was Garrett's little cousin. Fuck.

I slammed the door behind me and fell to the couch, lifting up my t-shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and downed half the bottle while I grabbed my cigarettes from the table, tapping one out from the pack.

I had just put the cigarette to my lips when Bella burst through the door.

"Well, well, well," she snapped. "If it isn't the asshole himself!"

There were so many people in the hallway, presumably to try to see me, and they started to push in towards the doorway, so she closed the door behind her to keep them out.

I really didn't understand her aggression towards me, but that's how it was, and I wanted her. I suddenly felt like I had to move things along - I was full of adrenaline from my set and feeling aggressive. So I stood up and slowly pulled my shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes darted down, poring over my naked chest, and I caught her looking. The corner of my mouth started to turn up, and I met her eyes.

I took a step towards her, and she took a step back.

"Can I help you with something, little girl?" I said with a grin. I took another step forward. She took another step back towards the door.

"Yeah," she said, her voice shaky with false bravado. "Where's your h-hooker for the night?"

I took another step towards her, and I was close enough to touch, but I held back.

"No hooker in sight," I said, sucking in a deep breath. She was so close I swore I could fucking smell her, but it was probably just my imagination. "Just you, my sweet, little Tiger."

When I said that - when I said "just you" and I called her "Tiger" - her eyes darted up quickly to mine, and she briefly lost that hard veneer, just a second or two. She pulled the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down nervously, and that was it - I lost my cool.

"Fuck," I sighed. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to pull that bottom lip between my teeth, and I took another step towards her. We were almost touching, and then she blinked hard, like she suddenly became aware of our proximity, and she stepped back again, away from me, until she was pressed against the door.

Her eyes got a little wild, like an animal who was trapped, and for some sick fucking reason that turned me on even more, like maybe I was in control with this girl for the very first time. I wanted to win ... I wanted what I couldn't have ... I wanted _her_.

I moved slowly so I wouldn't spook her - I didn't want her to run away. I touched her upper arm and slowly trailed my fingers down her soft skin until I reached her hand. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, pulling her towards me until her hand was pressed against my crotch, and I held her hand there, palming my hard dick. I leaned down until my mouth was at her ear.

"Feel this?" I whispered with a press of my hand on hers, my mouth so close to her skin. "This shit is because of you."

I pulled back to meet her eyes, and she just stared at me. What the fuck was she thinking?

Her hand was still on me, and she was breathing hard, as hard as I was. She smelled like flowers and cookies, and I wanted to fucking lick her skin, to run my tongue up her neck until I reached her ear.

But then her hand started to move on me, and I lost the ability to breathe. The feeling of her small, warm hand, pressing and stroking my cock ... it was just too fucking much. I couldn't think clearly. I was going to completely lose my composure.

And just like that, our roles reversed, and I lost the upper hand.

She curled her fingers around me, grabbing my length through my jeans, and stroking down between my legs, then back up, twisting her fingers around the head of my cock.

Fuck it - I moaned. Like really fucking loudly. It just felt too fucking good, and I couldn't hold it in any longer.

That's when I saw her smile, and I knew I was done for. I looked into her eyes, and I couldn't look away. Her hand was moving harder and faster. Jesus, I should stop her. I mean, it was wrong - this was Garrett's little cousin, the one he had _explicitly_ warned me about, and if he found out about it, he would fucking fire me. Or kill me. Or both. He could have walked in at any minute and seen us.

And, _fuck_ , her hand…

Hell, she did something to me. Something more than just the physical, more than just her hand on my dick. Something different than any other chick. And shit, if she didn't stop doing that with her fingers, I was gonna fucking come in my jeans.

"Bella," I groaned. "Bella, we… we can't… you need to, uh… _Jesus…_ you should stop."

"Stop what?" she whispered. "Stop _this_?" she said, punctuating her words with a press of her hand. "My hand on your dick?"

Oh fuck, if she started talking dirty, I was gonna completely lose it.

I couldn't even answer her, couldn't form words. All I could do was moan and gyrate my hips into her hand.

"Fuck, Edward, your cock is so big… so hard… is it all for me? Are you hard like this because of me?" She was whispering, and I was watching her lips as they formed each word. Each dirty, fucking word. Fuck, I wanted her mouth, and I wanted it on me. Anywhere she wanted to put it.

"God, feeling you like this, it makes me _so_ wet," she moaned. "I want to feel that hard cock inside me… fucking me."

 _Jesus motherfucking Christ._

* * *

 **AN: I'm really sorry to leave y'all on that super mean cliffie... It's just where the chapter happened to break... completely out of my hands. And on a holiday weekend too! Gosh, what a terrible break. ;) Hahaha...**

 **However, since I was only able to give you two chapters this week because of the Christmas holidays, I'll go ahead and post the NEXT chapter (chapter 9) later today... But then next week, we go back to the M-W-F schedule (unless I change my mind again! Women. Can't live with em, Can't - (you fill in the blank here).**

 **Thanks to all of you, such supportive readers - for continuing to read and comment and speak your mind. I appreciate all input, even if it's not necessarily flattering, but it is honest. However, if you are a "guest" reviewer and you post a review EVERY chapter telling me how horrible my story is, how can you possibly keep reading it, if it's so horrible? I mean, if it were me, and I came across a truly horrible story, I might send the writer one comment with my opinion, telling them why I dislike their story, and then I would simply stop reading it. Right? Hey, my readers, I'm curious - how would you handle a situation like this, as both a reader and a writer (if you are also a writer)? THANKS!**

 **Love, as always, to my fabulous friend and beta, LibbyLou826.**

 **I'll see you later this afternoon with Chapter 9. :)**

 **Di8**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9**

 _"Fuck, Edward, your cock is so big… so hard… is it all for me? Are you hard like this because of me?" She was whispering, and I was watching her lips as they formed each word. Each dirty, fucking word. Fuck, I wanted her mouth, and I wanted it on me. Anywhere she wanted to put it._

 _"God, feeling you like this, it makes me so wet," she moaned. "I want to feel that hard cock inside me… fucking me."_

 _Jesus motherfucking Christ._

* * *

"Do you want that, Edward?" she teased, her hand increasing in speed. Fuck, I could already feel my orgasm building in the pit of my stomach, and I was fucking powerless to stop it. "Do you want to fuck me?"

I nodded my head vigorously, like the bitch that I was, unable to form even the smallest of words. I wanted to touch her, to make her feel as good as she was making me feel, but I couldn't move. All I could do was think about how her hand felt on me and the sound of her dirty words. I wanted her mouth on me, on her knees in front of me, sucking me, licking me.

"What? You want me to suck your dick, Edward?"

Oh shit, did I say that out loud?

"Yeah," I moaned, my eyes closed, thinking of her on her knees looking up at me… how she would look with my dick in her mouth. "Fuck, Bella… don't fucking stop… don't…"

And that was it. I came. I fucking came in my jeans like a twelve year old boy. I couldn't stop pumping into her hand as I finished. It felt so good - I never wanted her to stop.

I hung my head and tried to catch my breath. I knew I needed to move, to touch her, to make her feel good too. To make her come. I wanted to go back onstage for the second set with my fingers smelling like her.

And then I heard her laugh.

I lifted my head to look at her, confused. She just fucking palmed me until I came, and now she was laughing, her eyebrows raised in a question… laughing _at_ me.

"Jesus, Cullen," she laughed. "You're fucking pathetic. So fucking easy."

She wiped her hand on her jeans, like it was dirty, and walked out the door.

I just stood there, staring at the door, at the empty space where she was standing seconds before.

* * *

I spent the following week in a dizzying fog of confusion and rage-filled lust. I replayed the events from that Saturday over and over in my mind, and I always ended up at the same place - hard as a rock and supremely pissed off at that little cock-teasing bitch. My hand would inevitably find its way down the front of my pants, the fantasy growing and building in my head until it no longer resembled the reality of that night - that miserable, humiliating end - and I would come in my hand, alone in my apartment, as I cursed her name.

Fucking bitch.

Something had to give, and it wasn't going to be me. She was mine - she just didn't know it yet. The more I thought about her and that night, the more I couldn't stop.

My brain was working overtime, one thought rushing in after the next. I started to drink to try to calm my mind, but nothing worked. Her hand, the feel of her hand, the sound of her dirty words.

It was too much, the random words buzzing around my head, discordant phrases, raw memories. I had to make it stop, get it out the only way I knew how.

I filled my glass with bourbon, grabbed my notebook and a pencil, and I started to write.

* * *

I went in early that next Friday, telling myself that I was there early to rehearse, to make sure I didn't suck again, but I was a lying sack of shit. I was hoping to see her, to see Bella, to confront her, to show her that what she did meant nothing to me. That I wasn't affected at all.

I hoped that when it finally happened, when she was standing in front of me, brash and cocky and confident in the upper hand, that I had the strength to act like a fucking man.

But apparently I wound myself up for nothing, because there was no sign of her.

Fucking cock tease bitch. She didn't even show up, and she still had complete control of me.

I started my first set and fucking killed. The pent up aggression and anger seemed to fuel me musically, and more than once, I looked over at the bar, looking for Bella, and saw Garrett smiling, raising his glass to me.

That would have to do for now.

In the middle of my first set, I finally saw her. Just a flash of her white t-shirt at first, but once I was aware of her presence, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Same tight ass jeans. Same tight white t-shirt, but holy fuck, she had it knotted up under her tits, and I could see her skin, her creamy, young, untouched skin. Fuck if I didn't think about marking her right then and there - dragging her ass to a tatt shop and getting some ink that only I knew about, that only I could see. And touch. And taste.

She moved through the crowd effortlessly but, unfortunately, not unnoticed. I was fully prepared to jump off the stage and tear up any motherfucker who tried to touch her. Obviously, I had no right, but it's not as if I was having any logical thoughts since I met her. They leered at her and made comments, but no one touched her, thank Christ.

I kept my eyes on one group who was particularly lecherous, but I noticed that Garrett was watching them too, which gave me a modicum of relief. I knew how protective of her he was, and I figured if shit went down, the two of us could beat the living shit out of anyone stupid enough to touch her.

Although, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she could probably take care of it herself. She was a tough little bitch, and I was sure that she had kneed more than one motherfucker in the balls in her day.

Shit. I was hard again, on stage. What the fuck was wrong with me?

Towards the end of the first set, she was at the front of the stage serving a tray of drinks to a group of girls who had been eyeing my junk since I walked out. She completely ignored me, which, in retrospect, was a good thing. If she had even glanced at me, I might have embarrassed myself again, jizzing in my pants in front of a hundred semi-drunk college kids.

When she turned around to walk back to the bar, I caught my first glimpse of her walking away from me, clearly seeing the dimples right above her ass, and I audibly groaned. I just couldn't fucking help myself. A week's worth of fantasies of touching those indentations, wondering if they would feel as good as they looked, imagining rubbing my thumbs on them as I pulled her ass towards me.

Did she do that on purpose? Flaunt her tight little ass at me, knowing that I had absolutely no self-control? Was she teasing me again, setting me up just to laugh at my pathetic self-induced misery?

Fucking bitch.

* * *

 **AN: How many of you guessed that Bella was just (excuse the expression) yanking Edward's chain? Poor guy. Can't get a break.**

 **More fun to come... thanks again for reading and commenting. Hope you are enjoying.**

 **Hope everyone has a safe and wonderful New Year's weekend! Be careful!**

 **See you Monday...**

 **Di8**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10**

 _Did she do that on purpose? Flaunt her tight little ass at me, knowing that I had absolutely no self-control? Was she teasing me again, setting me up just to laugh at my pathetic self-induced misery?_

 _Fucking bitch._

* * *

I finished up my set and practically ran off stage. The place was packed, and I had to push my way through the crowd to get to the green room. I grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge and downed it in one long gulp. I opened a second, sat on the couch, and waited.

For _her_. Pathetic.

I could only hope that she felt her usual overpowering need to taunt me and would show her face during my break.

A few minutes in, there was a commotion in the hallway, and the door opened, but it was only Garrett, quickly letting me know I was kicking ass and to keep it up.

I sat on the couch and watched the minutes tick away, staring at that dingy door, willing her to walk in. After twenty minutes, I realized I couldn't wait any longer and had to get back out there.

I grabbed my guitar, opened a new bottle of beer, and headed back out to start round two.

* * *

It was the same shit, all over again - Bella, walking around the room, serving drinks, blatantly ignoring me. Me, on stage, pretending I wasn't watching her, my dick painfully hard in my pants.

Towards the end of the set, the crowd started to thin out a bit, and there was more room for folks to move around. I looked around for Bella, noticing that she wasn't walking around as she had been, and I finally spotted her at the back of the room.

She was leaning against a wall, her shirt riding up indecently, and staring at me.

Like eyes-meeting, not-looking-away, smirk-less staring.

I was surprised, startled even, and I almost looked away, just completely caught off guard by her blatant attention. Obviously, another game of hers, and I was determined to no longer be the unwilling participant.

So instead, I met her stare and continued to sing, pouring my lust and aggression and anger into my singing.

The longer it went on - the unexplained eye contact - the stronger I felt, my old confidence returning. I was never lacking for the attention of a woman - it was always easy for me - and I tried to remember how that felt. I had been off my game since that day she walked into the green room. But it was coming back. I was starting to feel like my old self again, and I started to smile.

I finished the song I was singing and stopped to tune my guitar a bit. The audience applauded and screamed for more, just fucking inflating my ego. I glanced at the back of the room and she was still there, still staring at me.

It seemed like the perfect time to try out my new song.

"This is a new one," I mumbled into the mic, and as I started to sing, I met her eyes again.

 ** _I saw her in the crowd, watching me, watching me_**

 ** _Took her back, she's on her knees, she offered it was free_**

The song was blatantly about her, about that first night, and the more I sang, the more I could see her realization, her eyes growing wider with my dirty, dirty words.

 ** _She busted in and caught me, the fire in her eyes_**

 ** _Tight lil body lookin so hot, took me by surprise_**

Her increasingly shocked reaction and awareness only fed my ego, and I singled her out, singing to her as if she were the only woman in the room. The moony-faced bitches in the front row were all over me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Bella, finally thinking that I was making a dent, having some effect on her.

 ** _In the green room baby, give it to me quick_**

 ** _Back in the green room, baby, your flower's mine to pick_**

I finished the song, rough and hard, and while the audience erupted in loud, brash applause, I watched Bella, waiting for some reaction, some acknowledgement of what had just transpired between us. She stood up straight, calmly looked away, and walked out of the room.

What the fuck? Did I just imagine everything that just happened or was it real? Was she playing me again?

Fucking cock teasing little bitch.

All I could do at that point was take a long slug of my now warm beer and finish up the set. I still couldn't fucking believe that that little bitch was doing this to me yet again.

I pushed through the crowd to get to the back room, and I couldn't even enjoy the handful of bimbos trying to get my attention for what I assumed would be a quick fuck and a promise never to call again. I was sure I could get one of them to suck me off, but I was just too pissed. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there and start drinking that little bitch out of my head.

I sat in the green room slowly packing up my shit, and I realized that, despite my anger at her little game, I was still hoping that she would show up. I wanted her warm hand on me again, no matter what the reason or the cost. Fucking pussy. She was playing me again, and I needed to get that through my fucking skull. For some reason, the little cocksucker hated me, and I would never understand what I had done to her. Other than let her catch me with a blonde on her knees with my dick in her mouth, that is.

I drank all the beer that was left in the fridge and walked out to the bar to settle up with Garrett.

* * *

Garrett was in the mood to talk and drink, so it was over an hour before I finally left.

I had parked my crappy beat-up shit car on the far end of the parking lot, and it was almost completely empty. It was way after closing time, and almost all the drunk college kids had moved on to their next party.

I threw my guitar in the backseat, and as I started to get in the driver's seat, I heard an unusual noise on the other side of the lot. It was that group of obnoxious assholes from earlier, obviously too drunk to drive, and sounding like they were about to get into some sort of major trouble. I should probably have called the cops on those fuckers before they killed someone.

Then, I saw it. Just for a second, but it was enough to get my attention.

A flash of white. A white t-shirt.

 _What the?_

I started to walk over, still not realizing exactly what I was seeing, when two of the guys moved just enough so I could see.

Jesus Christ, it was Bella. They had Bella. _They fucking had Bella_.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry about that cliffie, but the plot thickens...**

 **Original song lyrics (as yet untitled) by my fabulous beta, LibbyLou862, who has written 2 other songs for my stories - Trunk Boy and Beautiful. She's amazing, and I'm hoping one day there will be music to go with these lyrics! I'll post the entire song at the end of the last chapter, just FYI.**

 **Hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year's Eve/Day, and here's to a wonderful 2018!**

 **Thanks again, LibbyLou... you truly are the best!**

 **Thanks again for reading!**

 **Di8**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 11**

 _I started to walk over, still not realizing exactly what I was seeing, when two of the guys moved just enough so I could see._

 _Jesus Christ, it was Bella. They had Bella. They fucking had Bella._

* * *

Two of the guys were holding her arms and one of them had his hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream. The rest were watching, leering, cheering the main guy on. I was still pretty far away, but there was no mistaking the abject terror in her eyes.

I mindlessly started to run towards her.

The light hit her just right then, and I could see that they had torn her shirt and that she had blood on her face, running down her chin underneath one of the guy's hands.

Motherfuckers. They had hit her. That was it - I was gonna fucking kill somebody.

"Hey, asshole!" I screamed as I launched myself on the first guy, forearm across his throat and a hard punch to the kidney. He gurgled and collapsed to the asphalt like a bag of wet cement. One down.

I got their attention away from Bella just long enough to grab her arm and pull her from them, pushing her behind me so that she could get away.

I whipped my head around to her and screamed.

" _Run_!"

I turned back to the group, counting four left, not including the bag of cement I had already taken out, and I attacked. I wasn't thinking straight - it was just red hot, blind rage. It didn't matter what happened to me, as long as Bella was safe. I was sure I had broken some bones and taken out some teeth, but I was much older than those fuckers. I actually had the upper hand for about two minutes - two whole minutes - and then I heard the main guy issue my death warrant.

"That's enough," he growled. "Kill this fucker."

It was all a blur after that. Hands on me everywhere, pulling, hitting, pain, blood. So much pain, and so much blood - mine, theirs, I couldn't tell. At some point, there was so much pain that I couldn't even feel anymore.

My last thought before the blackness overtook me was that I hoped she was safe.

* * *

At first, there were just sounds in the darkness. People talking. But I couldn't make out the words, or the voices.

Then thirst. An almost painful thirst.I tried to speak to ask for water, but I couldn't form the words. I couldn't open my eyes.

Blackness again.

* * *

There it was again, those voices.

And I was still thirsty.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice barely above a soft rasp. Jesus, could someone get me a fucking glass of water?

"Hey," I whispered again, trying to get those voices to listen to me. "Water."

"Did you hear that?" they said. "Edward?" _A man_.

"Edward, can you hear me? Edward?" _A woman._

"Water," I groaned again, and tried to open my eyes. The voices sounded vaguely familiar, and I needed to get their attention. I was so confused and tired and just really fucking thirsty. My eyelids felt like they weighed twenty pounds each, and it was a Herculean effort to try to open them.

"Ed? Hey, Edward, man, you there?" The man again. I knew him. It was on the tip of my tongue.

There was a hand on my arm. Warm. Soft. Patting and stroking. It felt nice.

"Edward?" The woman again. "Edward, come on. Open your eyes. Wake up." I turned my head to the voice and tried to open my eyes again.

"Water," I croaked one last time. I really wanted to wake up, but I was just so fucking tired.

"Water? Did you say water?" she said. It got noisy then, both of them sounding like they were knocking shit off tables or something. "Garrett, he said water. He wants some water. Look, on the table next to you," she said. "That pink pitcher. Get it. Get that straw."

Garrett?

"Okay, buddy, here you go." I felt something touch my mouth. "It's a straw, Ed. Take a sip, man."

I pursed my lips around the straw, which took a ridiculous amount of effort, and pulled in a tiny sip. Oh man, it tasted so fucking good that I started sucking down more and more until I choked myself. Bad idea.

They sat me up in the bed and clapped me on the back, which just fucking hurt, but it finally woke me up, and after I finished coughing up my guts, I opened my eyes and looked around.

The first thing I saw was that I was in a hospital room. In a hospital bed. Which confused the hell out of me. Then I saw Garrett, who kept saying, "You okay man? You okay?" over and over like I was a three year old and didn't fucking understand English.

"Edward?" The voice came from my left, the woman who was speaking earlier, so soft and sweet. I had to turn my head to look at her, slow, painful, and exhausting. It was Bella. I just fucking stared at her, so fucking confused, no idea what was going on or why this woman who viscerally hated me was standing next to my hospital bed. And not cursing at me. Or nut-punching me.

And then fuck, I started to notice things about her. The dark circles under her eyes. Faint yellow bruises on her arms and her cheek.

Suddenly, it all came rushing back. The parking lot. The assholes. The assholes grabbing Bella. The blood on her face. The fear in her eyes.

Holy shit, what happened? What did they do? What did they do to her? Did they… Oh my God, please tell me they didn't.

"Fuck!" I groaned and sat up, white hot pain exploding in my head and ribs. "What the fuck happened? Those guys, Garrett, what happened to those guys?" I turned to Bella, and I must have been angry and screaming because she looked fucking scared as shit. Of _me_. "What did they do, Bella? Tell me! Did they fucking touch you? Fucking tell me right now! I'll fucking kill them, I'll fucking -"

"Ed, man, calm down," Garrett said as calmly as he could, like I was about to jump off a roof or something. Bella was slowly backing out of the room, her bottom lip quivering, her eyes like saucers, terrified of me. Thinking that I might hurt her like those assholes did. Jesus, if that's what she thought, I'd never forgive myself. If they fucking touched her, I'd kill them, and then I'd still never forgive myself. "Ed, she's fine, Bella's fine, calm down. She ran away, dude," he said. "After you started wailing on those fuckheads, she ran back to the bar and called the cops. She's okay."

He kept repeating that over and over until I finally registered what he was saying. She was okay. She got away. She was safe. She was okay. She got away. She was safe. Fuck.

"You sure?" I said, suddenly very thirsty again, grabbing the cup and taking smaller sips this time. "You sure you're not fucking with me, that's she's really okay?"

He laughed.

"Yeah, dude. She called the cops and an ambulance. They had beaten the ever-loving shit out of you, and you were out cold. Then, she called me."

I sighed heavily, so fucking relieved, and hell if that didn't hurt just as much as the fucking beating. The memories were really coming back now. I winced in pain and leaned back on the bed.

"She thought you were dead, man," Garrett added way too seriously, which creeped me out a little. "She was hysterical, saying all kinds of shit. I didn't get the full story until I got to the hospital, and she had calmed down a little."

I just nodded. I didn't know what to say, how to respond to that. It was completely out of character for everything I knew about this chick, everything I had personally experienced. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

"Ed, man," he said. "There's something else I think you should know." He paused for a minute, looking down at his hands, and that worried the shit out of me more than anything else. What the fuck could he _not_ say to me?

Then, he met my eyes, and smiled.

"Bella's been here pretty much the whole time. Never left your side, except for once or twice to go home to get clothes and stuff. Slept here every fucking night. She kept insisting that she was responsible."

"What?" I asked. "What the fuck do you mean? That chick fucking hates me!" And then I thought for a second - there was something else he wasn't saying. "Wait. _'The whole time?'_ What the fuck does that mean? How fucking long have I been here? How long have I been out?"

"Dude," he said with a heavy sigh and a hand on my shoulder. "It's been a week. Actually, eight days ago, today."

Eight fucking days? I've been unconscious for eight fucking days? And… Bella. Bella stayed with me?

"Tell me everything, Garrett. I need to know everything you know."

* * *

 **AN: Okay, so now you know he's okay. And she's okay. So... what's left to tell... hahahaha.**

 **Also, I'm starting to cut these chapters up a little longer than I originally intended, because I really hate leaving y'all on big cliffies, even when it's the natural place to cut a chapter... So we won't have 24 total chapters anymore. More like 22, and maybe 21, the way I'm going. But I'll let you know once we get closer :)**

 **I'm loving all the comments from y'all - keep em coming! I try to answer each one, but I've gotten behind because of the holidays. Hope to remedy that today.**

 **Thank you again to ALL of you for reading! I truly appreciate each and every one of you!**

 **And special thanks to my fabu beta LibbyLou862, and song writer extraordinare!**

 **See ya Friday!**

 **Di8**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 12**

 _"What?" I asked. "What the fuck do you mean? That chick fucking hates me!" And then I thought for a second - there was something else he wasn't saying. "Wait. 'The whole time?' What the fuck does that mean? How fucking long have I been here? How long have I been out?"_

 _"Dude," he said with a heavy sigh and a hand on my shoulder. "It's been a week. Actually, eight days ago, today."_

 _Eight fucking days? I've been unconscious for eight fucking days? And… Bella. Bella stayed with me?_

 _"Tell me everything, Garrett. I need to know everything you know."_

* * *

Garrett talked for a long time, and I let him, uninterrupted. I had a thousand fucking questions, but I waited until he was done. I wanted to focus on what he was saying before I started grilling him.

I got pretty much the whole story right up front… how Bella ran away from the guys when I injected myself into the party, then ran into the bar to call the cops and an ambulance and Garrett. How she only had minor injuries - a cut lip and a bruise on her face from where those walking sacks of shit had hit her, and my absolute biggest fear - that they had _not_ raped her or even gotten as far as _trying_. I could barely even get that question out, and after stuttering words for a minute straight while I grew more and more pissed, Garrett put me out of my misery, knowing what I was asking. How the walking sacks of shit had all gotten arrested on multiple counts each and were being held without bail. How the doctors put me temporarily into a medically-induced coma as a precaution because of the head injuries I suffered during the beating. How I had a broken leg (in two places), three broken ribs, and a plethora of painful and colorful bruises. And again, how Bella had stayed with me the entire time I was in the hospital, out of guilt for what happened, or what, I don't know. It was bizarre. I couldn't wrap my brain-damaged head around it.

Just then, the door opened slowly, and Bella's head peeked timidly around the corner, eyebrows raised in question. So unlike the girl that I knew. Fucking bizarre.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly. I just stared, blankly, unable to answer her.

"Sure, Bella, come on," Garrett answered after an uncomfortably long silence, since I was apparently mute as well as brain dead. "I was just filling Edward in on everything that happened."

That sentence, and everything it held that was unsaid, must have been a heavy weight on her. She instantly hung her head and sighed audibly, then slowly creeped back into the room. She lifted her head halfway through and kind of half smiled at me, then sat in the chair at my side.

I was so used to her playing games with me that I worried about that smile for minutes, what it might mean, why she did it, how she planned to fuck me over _this_ time.

But instead, she just sat quietly in that chair, listening to Garrett and me talk about shit, a strangely hopeful look on her face. I wanted the old cynical, cursing Bella back. This Bella was creeping me the fuck out, because I couldn't figure out her game.

Garrett left about an hour after that. Bella stayed in the corner, in that fucking chair, reading a book.

At first, it was just dead quiet. Every few minutes, she'd turn a page, but otherwise, there was no sound at all. I started to get really uncomfortable, this woman sitting in my room, babysitting me, but knowing the entire time that she hated me. I really didn't trust her, so I couldn't rest, couldn't close my eyes. I was exhausted.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"You don't have to stay with me, you know," I said gruffly. "I don't need a fucking babysitter. I'm fine."

"I know," she said softly. "But I'd like to stay, if it's okay."

She sounded so fucking hopeful and sweet that I couldn't launch into her with my suspicions. So I decided I just wouldn't say anything at all. I grabbed the giant TV remote that was connected to my bed, and I mindlessly flipped channels.

There was a UFC fight on, which halfway interested me, and a music and concert channel that interested me more. But after the commercial, I realized they were playing a Taylor Swift concert, and I would rather have my teeth extracted by an old Nazi than watch that, so I just turned the TV off and threw the remote down in frustration. Of course, I forgot that I had broken ribs, and the motion hurt like a motherfucker.

"Ah! _Goddamn_ it! _Motherfuck_!" I screamed and collapsed back on the bed, panting through the pain.

Bella popped up out of her chair, a concerned look on her face, and stood right next to my bed.

"What happened? Are you okay? Should I call the nurse? Let me get -"

" _No_!" I barked, a little too angrily. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just give me a goddamned minute."

She looked properly chastised, and I immediately felt horrible, guilty for making her look that way.

"Sorry," I said softly. She looked up from the floor and met my eyes. "I'm just not used to… you know, um, sudden excruciating pain when I move." I was trying to be sarcastic and a little funny, to lighten the mood, but she just looked mortified instead, hearing me speak about my injuries and being in pain.

"No," she said softly after a moment. "I'm the one who's sorry." Then, she looked up and met my eyes again. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me, saving me from… well, you know… " She choked up a little, trying to get the words out, and I almost interrupted her, but she took a deep breath and kept talking. "And… and especially with how horribly I treated you before, and still you… you... oh my God, I'm just so sorry about that, and about… your injuries… and… about everything, and I just-"

"Bella," I jumped in. "Stop. It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I mean, yeah, you were a shit to me, but I was a shit to you too. And what the hell was I supposed to do when I saw you with those assholes? I mean, seriously. It was a no brainer." I fiddled with the railing on my bed. "Anyone would have done the same." I looked up at her. God, the brown of her eyes - that deep, dark brown. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Okay," she said softly, taking a deep, shuddering breath, and then as she exhaled, she laughed a little. A nervous laugh, but it was a start.

"So," I started hesitantly, "while we're on the subject…"

"The subject?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah," I grinned. "The subject of you treating me like shit from that first time we met."

"Oh. That," she barely whispered, hanging her head down.

"Yeah, _that_." I finally had her where I wanted her, and I wasn't going to let her out this time. I wanted answers. Some sort of explanation. "I mean, what the fuck, Bella? What did I ever fucking do to you to deserve that instant hatred?"

Her head instantly popped up, and I saw those famous bright pink splotches growing on her cheeks. She was pissed. Here we go. Familiar territory.

"Hatred? _Hatred_?" she roared. "Jesus fucking Christ, Edward, you really have no fucking clue about women, do you?"

And obviously, she was right, because I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Do you know how long I worked for Garrett before we met that night in the green room? Hmm? Any clue?"

She was wound up, back to her old self a bit, and I had to admit, I was loving it. Angry Bella is a Hot Bella.

I cocked a half-grin and smiled back.

"No clue. Uh… that night? First time I saw you, so…"

"No, _shithead_ , not that night."

She stood up and walked to the door. I hoped to God she wasn't going to bail on me. It was just starting to get good, and as much as I was enjoying the show, I was really curious now.

"I had been working at that fucking lousy bar for _over two months_ that night. Two fucking months, Edward! And did you even once look my way or acknowledge my existence in all that time? Fuck no! The only thing you ever saw were your slutty bimbo fans… you know the ones I'm talking about… Tall. Long legs. Big fake titties. Oh my God, you are such a douchebag! I just wanted you to _see_ me, just once, see me like I saw you, like I wanted to…"

I couldn't speak. I was just dumbstruck.

"And so one night, I decided to bite the bullet and go talk to you in the green room. I mean... who knows what might have happened."

She was looking off in the distance, wistful, thoughtful, like she was remembering something.

"And then BAM! I open the door and what do you think I see? Oh you remember, don't you Edward? It was that blondie bitch on her knees in front of you, sucking your dick, and you were just leaning back and … and… enjoying it!"

"But, Bella…" I started.

"No Edward, never mind. It's over. You ruined it, and it's over. It's all over." She opened the door to leave, and turned back to me. "I'm going for a walk. I need to clear my head. I meant what I said earlier though. I really appreciate what you did for me, and I'll never forget it."

And she walked out the door.

* * *

 **AN: So... questions answered? At least SOME questions? And now you have even MORE questions?! HAHAHAHA! Please don't hate me.**

 **So I know it's Thursday, but I'm going to be out of pocket on Friday, so I'm posting today. There won't be another chapter until Monday (I'm unavailable all weekend). Hope this long chapter soothes the burn of having to wait! ;)**

 **I** **know Edward is a giant douchebag (don't you just LOVE that word? I do!), but he'll get better... or WILL he? DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN!**

 **I love each and every one of you who reads... And I especially love my fabu beta LibbyLou862, who posted some reviews today and put me over 200! Love ya honey!**

 **See y'all Monday!**

 **Di8**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13**

 _"No Edward, never mind. It's over. You ruined it, and it's over. It's all over." She opened the door to leave, and turned back to me. "I'm going for a walk. I need to clear my head. I meant what I said earlier though. I really appreciate what you did for me, and I'll never forget it."_

 _And she walked out the door._

* * *

After another week in the hospital - a shitty week full of tests, poking and prodding, and several sessions of cruel, torturous, medieval physical therapy - they let me go home. I still had to go through a few weeks of PT, but it was outpatient, and that was infinitely better than being locked up in that hospital torture chamber.

They had been gradually reducing my meds as well, which really pissed me off. I mean, did they really think fucking _Tylenol_ was going to help my cracked ribs? I just laughed at the doctor when he said that. I made him write me another prescription right there, on the spot. It was a step down from what I had been taking, and only like a week's worth, but it was something.

And fucking Bella, man… After her big rant about our first meeting, she came back to my room and sat with me like she had been doing. Nothing more was mentioned about that night. And she was there the whole freaking time. I tried to send her away several times, but she refused to leave.

I couldn't believe that I was complaining about being in the same room with her. I mean, I was so freaking obsessed with that chick for weeks, and now, six feet from me, and offering to do just about anything to make me feel better. Why wasn't I jumping on that shit? I thought about asking her for a handjob under the sheets, but then I felt so ashamed of even thinking of that, that I never even got hard.

We started to talk, that first week out of the coma, just out of pure necessity, and then it gradually became more comfortable. We started talking about ourselves, our lives. Asking each other questions about our pasts, what brought us to Garrett's club.

But we never talked about that night, the attack in the parking lot.

* * *

Garrett brought me home from the hospital, and Bella was right there, acting like she had been there a million times, cleaning the old, rotten food out of my refrigerator, and putting away a ton of crap that she had bought at the store. I told her she didn't have to do that, but she was starting to get a little of her spunk back, and she just looked at me and gave me that cocked eyebrow that used to turn me on so much.

Garrett deposited me on my couch, handed me the remote to my TV, and asked me what else I needed. Simple, straight to the point. No bullshit.

"Nothing, man, I'm good," I said. "Thanks, really, for the ride."

"Hey, nothing at all dude, seriously," Garrett replied stoically.

It was silent for a minute, then Garrett coughed and stood up to go. I knew he wouldn't try to lurk too much, and I really just wanted to be alone for awhile. It seemed like it had been forever since I had just been alone.

"Alright," he said. "I'm gonna bounce. Need anything before I go?"

I shook my head, told him no, and he didn't ask again. He just headed for the door. He spoke briefly to Bella, who was in the kitchen doing God knows what, and then they left. I heard the door slam, and it was - finally - blessedly quiet.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I reveled in the silence, just being alone in my own fucking apartment.

And then I heard humming coming from my kitchen. I tried to get up, to walk to the kitchen to see who the fuck didn't leave, but I really didn't need to. I knew who it was. Garrett doesn't hum, and if he did, I'd fucking beat the shit out of him.

It was Bella. It had to be.

"Uh, Bella?" I yelled, since I couldn't fucking get up. I leaned on my leg for half a second to try to stand up, and white hot pain shot up my leg.

She popped around the corner, saw the anguished look on my face, and ran to my side.

"What's the matter? What happened? Are you okay? Can I get you some water? Did you take your -"

"Bella! Bella! Stop!" I yelled. "Jesus Christ," I muttered. "I'm fine, I'm fine, fucking relax, okay?"

"Oh! Okay," she said quickly, her eyes wide like a trapped deer. "I'm sorry, I just -"

"Bella," I sighed. "I know. Just… stop, okay? Look, what are you still doing here?"

She slumped, and her face just fell, and I realized that I may have said that a little too harshly.

"I'm fine, Bella. Thanks for everything you've done, for the hospital, for the food in my fridge," I said, gesturing towards the kitchen. "For cleaning out that disgusting shit slop that was in there. But look - you don't have to babysit me. I'm sure you have something you'd rather be doing."

As soon as I said the words, I thought about the result of my statement, and I immediately regretted it. I started thinking about Bella actually leaving, walking out the door, maybe never coming back. I'd had so much of her the last week, I had grown used to her being around. I mean, it wasn't like we talked that much or anything. It was just comfortable… her, sitting there… being there. And fuck, not having that… well, I just really didn't like the way that made me feel.

I barely knew this chick, but I knew from the minute she barged into my life that I was done. Game over.

Fucking pussy.

I didn't even notice that Bella had walked into the den and was now standing right in front of me. I was so caught up in feeling sorry for myself, ungrateful dick that I was, for kicking Bella out of my life, so when I finally realized that she was there, I blinked a couple of times, bringing myself back to earth, and I looked up.

And man, was she fucking pissed.

Standing in front of me, hands on her hips, chest heaving, that stormy look in her eyes… Jesus, she was fucking glorious. It was like the first time in the Green Room, all over again. Well, except for the blonde on my dick.

"You mother-fucking loser piece of shit," she spewed, slowly drawing out each word for emphasis. "You think you're just going to _dismiss_ me, like I'm your fucking _maid_ or something? I'm not enjoying this shit anymore than you are, asshole! Do you think I _like_ pulling month-old, moldy, liquified cucumbers out of your garbage dump of a refrigerator?"

Her cheeks were blotchy and pink, and her eyes were huge and dark, and I was suddenly rock hard and shifting in my sweatpants. I knew I should interrupt, but she was so fucking hot like this that I didn't want to stop her. So I let her rant and enjoyed the show.

"Do you think I _enjoyed_ sleeping every night in that fucking hospital where the fucking nurses woke me up every hour, turning on the fucking overhead light, and hitting my knees when they passed me? Fucking _bitches_." She was on a roll now, and I wanted to fuck her until she screamed, that is, if I could figure out how to fuck with broken ribs. Instead, I acquiesced.

"All right, all right, calm the fuck down," I said in the most conciliatory tone I could muster. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to offend your do-gooder sensibilities."

"My… my… my _what_?" she screamed.

Fuck, man, I was gonna come in my pants if she didn't stop, and soon. This was the hottest fucking thing I had ever seen in my life. My own private anger-porn channel.

I laughed at the absurdity of the situation, which was apparently the exact wrong thing to do. She just stared at me, heaving breasts and all, and then screamed at me. No words, just a long, garbled "Arghhhhh!" of frustration.

I wanted to fucking applaud, but I was already in enough shit with her.

She stormed out of the room, through the kitchen door, and out of my apartment.

 _Fuck_.

* * *

 **AN: And so it begins... they are sorta, kinda becoming friends. :)**

 **Hope you enjoy! I'm loving all of your comments! And I love each and every one of you for reading!**

 **Extra love to my fabulous beta, LibbyLou862!**

 **Till Wednesday...**

 **Di8**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 14**

 _Fuck, man, I was gonna come in my pants if she didn't stop, and soon. This was the hottest fucking thing I had ever seen in my life. My own private anger-porn channel._

 _I laughed at the absurdity of the situation, which was apparently the exact wrong thing to do. She just stared at me, heaving breasts and all, and then screamed at me. No words, just a long, garbled "Arghhhhh!" of frustration._

 _I wanted to fucking applaud, but I was already in enough shit with her._

 _She stormed out of the room, through the kitchen door, and out of my apartment._

 _Fuck._

* * *

Fortunately, for me, she showed back up after an hour or so. Grumbled about having to cool off or something, then started rattling around in the kitchen again.

I really needed a fucking drink and a Lortab, but I was too fucking pigheaded to ask for her help. So I just sat there, the pain increasing by the minute, and the more I thought about it, and how I wasn't going to feel better anytime soon, the worse it got. I even tried, stupidly, to get up and get it myself, which I immediately discovered was a really fucking bad idea. I instantly and uncontrollably screamed in pain, throwing my crutches across the room with a loud crash.

Bella bolted into the room, still angry at me, apparently.

" _Edward_? What the _fuck_? What happened? What -" She stopped then and just stared at me. I guess the expression on my face told her everything she needed to know.

She ran back to the kitchen, got me a glass of water and a pill, then sat on the couch next to me, while I took it. She look so fucking concerned, and it really pissed me off. I much preferred the angry, yelling Bella. Much fucking hotter. And much less pity.

After about thirty more minutes of torture, the meds finally kicked in, and I must have dozed off. Bella woke me up with a drink and dinner in front of me.

"It's not much, but you need to eat. Taco salad."

She sat next to me on the couch, and we ate in a strange but comfortable silence.

* * *

After the third day, she told me I stunk like a homeless person covered in my own shit, and if I didn't take a fucking shower, she was going to flush all my meds down the toilet. That was a glorious fight, one for the books, and after she helped me get to the bathroom, stripping me down to my boxers, I screamed at her until she left the room, slamming the door in her face.

I took my dick in my hands for the first time in weeks and came explosively in less than twenty seconds, thinking about how hot her tits looked when we fought.

That, combined with the physical effort of cleaning myself up and putting on clean clothes, and I was wiped out.

She was waiting outside my bedroom, helped me back to the couch, and handed me a pill and a glass of water.

* * *

It was like that for a few weeks. Bella showing up at my apartment first thing in the morning, cooking for me, doing my laundry, cleaning up, leaving only to grab a shift at the bar or go home to sleep.

After that first night, I stopped trying to convince her to go home. Fuck, I wanted her there, and I was getting used to her company really quickly.

We continued to fight and argue, but it was ... _different_. We both dished it out pretty well, so I didn't feel like I was being a dick or anything. It wasn't like she hated me anymore, not like before. More like two friends who knew each other well enough to say whatever the fuck was on their minds.

She got me up and walking, told me I needed to get my strength back, and we got into the habit of taking long walks around the neighborhood before dinner. I never wanted to admit that she was right about anything, but I was feeling a lot better, and it got to where those walks were the best part of my day. We would talk, about anything and everything, our pasts and our present, and it was on the streets in my neighborhood that I got to know who Bella really was.

* * *

One night, after dinner and a shower, I grabbed my guitar before I plopped back down on the couch. It was the first time I had picked it up since that night.

I started tooling around, playing nothing in particular, just exercising my fingers, and Bella came around the corner from the kitchen, and leaned against the door jamb, her hands in her pockets, just listening.

I was feeling pretty good about where I was, so I launched into a few of my favorite songs from my old set. She walked slowly to the couch and sat next to me, not saying a fucking word, just watching and listening. Every now and then, I would look up and meet her eyes, wide and dark, and I would sing to her. My audience of one. And she would get this look, strangely similar to when we fought, that stormy look, her chest heaving, a pink flush spreading across her creamy, white skin.

I wanted to look at her tits so badly, but I knew that she would catch me. She was watching me too closely, too intensely. So I looked down at my guitar instead, following the motion of my hands.

I finished the last song of the set, thinking that I was done for the time being, but Bella was entranced, sitting comfortably on the couch next to me, close enough for me to smell the flowery scent of her hair. God _damn_ but did that fucking turn me on.

She looked at me, expectantly, waiting for what was next.

And what _was_ next, I had no idea. Well, I had an idea, but it was more of a fantasy, and I didn't think it was the right time to grab her and pull her on my dick.

Maybe later.

I looked down at the coffee table in front of me, needing to clear my mind of the increasing filth and debauchery, staring at the tray of dirty dishes from dinner. More evidence of Bella's presence in my life. But I saw something I had completely missed earlier… a small water glass at the corner of the tray holding a small, pink flower. The petals were wide and pointed and completely open, and the instant imagery hit me hard, like a bag of bricks.

"Uh, Bella?" I said cautiously. "What is _that_?"

My tone must have been less than appreciative, and she looked up at me in a minor panic.

"I-It's… um…, " she stuttered. "It's a… you know… a Tiger Lily. I thought that… well… you always call me Tiger, so… I thought… I thought that meant that you liked lilies, so I got you one."

Holy fuck. I mean, she really had no fucking clue as to why I called her that. It was sweet of her, but it was also fucking hot as hell. All I could think of as I looked at that beautiful pink flower was how beautiful and pink her pussy must be, how badly I wanted to see it on display for me, spread open like that.

 _Jesus_.

"Yeah, Bella," I grinned, wanting to quickly put her at ease. "I like it. I like tiger lilies. A lot." I had to clear my throat to keep from laughing at my inside joke. Yeah, I liked lilies, one in particular. "Uh, thanks."

She relaxed a little and gave me a small smile, her cheeks growing pink before my eyes. I stared at that growing blush for a beat or two, wondering if she knew, or had any idea what that flower thing meant to me. And if she did… did she like it?

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, so the tiger lily thing. I really love that, and it will be a theme till the very end of the story - very meaningful for Edward and eventually, for Bella too. Whoops! Did I just give away a plot point? Not me!**

 **Things are progressing for Bella and Edward... and I promise there WILL be a payoff before I say "finis!" So please don't lose patience for me. If you've read ANY of my other stories, you KNOW that my characters always get their... um... satisfaction. That's why my stories are always rated "M!"Tee hee!**

 **I love each and every one of you, and I read every single review. When my email dings with a new review, I get SO excited! So thank you for reading. Thank you for your comments. I appreciate it, truly.**

 **Looking like it will be about 21 chapters, total. I started with 24, but then I've been cutting up the chapters a little differently as I post so I can give you a little longer chapters.**

 **Next chapter on Friday! I started to write about what happens next, and then I had to erase it! I mean, that would be cheating, right? You'll just have to wait! :)**

 **Mucho gracias, as always, to my lovely, wonderful, and talented beta and RL BFF, LibbyLou862 (and the writer of THE SONG).**

 **Until Friday!**

 **Di8**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 15**

 _"Yeah, Bella," I grinned, wanting to quickly put her at ease. "I like it. I like lilies. A lot." I had to clear my throat to keep from laughing at my inside joke. Yeah, I liked lilies, one in particular. "Uh, thanks."_

 _She relaxed a little and gave me a small smile, her cheeks growing pink before my eyes. I stared at that growing blush for a beat or two, wondering if she knew, or had any idea what that flower thing meant to me. And if she did… did she like it?_

* * *

So I started playing again, and what came out, completely unplanned, was _that song_. The one I wrote specifically about her. The one I played for the first time the night she was attacked. The night that I got the ever-loving shit beat out of me.

 ** _I saw her in the crowd, watching me, watching me_**

 ** _Took her back, she's on her knees, she offered, it was free_**

I started out rough, my voice barely able to croak out the lyrics. I was far too aware of the meaning of every single word, who it was about, and why I wrote it. And Bella was sitting so close to me, too damn close actually, considering my current mental and physical state. The last time I played this song, she was across a crowded bar, in a smoky room full of people.

This, sitting on my couch, close enough to touch her, was so much more intimate.

The more I sang, the more confident I became, and I really started to sing it _to_ her, as it was intended to be heard. I wanted her to read through the not-so-subtle lines and realize that it was all about her, to know how much I fucking wanted her.

 ** _I want to taste that filthy mouth, to touch each inch of skin_**

 ** _Your tight white T is killin' me, oh baby let me in_**

 ** _I want to smell your flower, peel it open wide_**

 ** _I need to be a part of you, feel you deep inside_**

And, Jesus, the way she was looking at me - so fucking intense, never looking away, her eyes wide and dark, leaning forward to better my view of her tits. Her chest heaving as she breathed faster, and that pink flush rising up her neck. It was impossible to look away.

 ** _I wanna make you sweat and scream, you're so far away_**

 ** _Holding back just ain't my style, will you walk away?_**

 ** _I hate you, I need you, I've gotta have you_**

 ** _What can I do? I'm losing my mind_**

And then when I got to the bridge, I had to readjust my jeans because she started biting on that damn lip of hers. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that it was about to go down, that we were finally about to fuck, but all I could think about was that time in the Green Room when she gave me a hand job and then laughed at me for coming in my pants.

I was just so twisted around from what I wanted and what I knew, or what I thought I knew. What if she was just fucking with me again? I was in too deep this time, and I didn't think I could recover from another humiliating rejection.

So I finished the song, barely, and put my guitar down.

"I need to hit the head," I groaned, rubbing my sweaty hands on my thighs, and then I headed off to the bathroom for what had to be a suspicious amount of time. I didn't know what I hoped to accomplish in there. I certainly couldn't whack off with the load I was carrying, not with her on the other side of the wall. I would be mortified if she heard me, or even suspected.

So instead, I just waited and waited until it was utterly and completely silent.

I unlocked the door and slowly walked back out to the den only to discover that she had left, the kitchen door locked behind her.

Fuck. Still in the fucking batter's box.

This shit had to change.

* * *

I gave myself the rest of the week to get my shit together and decided that I would return to work at the bar that Friday night. My insurance money had almost run out, the pissant dollar or two that I got from short-term disability, and I had to start paying my own bills again. Besides that, the drugs were gone, and I was bored out of my fucking skull.

Since I needed less help on a day-to-day basis, Bella had returned to a full schedule at the bar as well. She still came by, almost every day, but the quiet walks around the neighborhood and the long evenings sitting on the couch watching some crappy new TV show were few and far between now.

I missed that shit.

I needed to get back on stage, and I needed to see Bella as much as I could swing it without looking like the pathetic pussy that I had become. The bar was it.

* * *

Those first few weekends back were rough.

Even though I had been practicing every night at home, I couldn't seem to find my old rhythm, my groove, my mojo, whatever the fuck you call it. My voice was okay, just not as strong as it once was. I think in some small way, which I refused to admit to anyone, I was a little unnerved to be back at the bar. The last time I was there was the night Bella was attacked, and I was now equal parts terrified and enraged just thinking about what happened.

The only positive part of my return was that I got to see Bella. She worked every night I worked, and if it hadn't been for that, I didn't know if I would have been able to get my ass off the couch.

It was so different too, between us. The animosity was gone, just completely gone. She would actually smile at me here and there, encouraging me like she had when I first started playing again at my apartment. I mean, she would completely tell me when I sucked too, but she let me play for hours until I regained my confidence.

* * *

A few weeks after my return to the bar, my case finally came to trial and both Bella and I had to testify. We weren't allowed to be in the courtroom until they called us, so Bella and I just waited on the bench in the hallway, both silent and fidgeting, but together. At one point, I noticed that both of our legs were bouncing at a frantic pace, so I reached over and put my hand on her knee. She whipped her head around to glare at me, and I flinched like the pussy that I was, assuming I was about to get a slap.

But I didn't see anger there, and believe me, I knew what that chick looked like when she was pissed. Her eyes were wide and dark, full of some unnamed emotion. She suddenly blushed bright pink and broke eye contact, staring down at her hands. I worried that I had done something wrong, something to make her feel uncomfortable, but when she put her hand on top of mine, I understood. She calmed me, instantly. Just the feel of her skin touching my skin and I was instantly centered, where I needed to be.

 _"Edward Cullen?"_

And just like that, our temporary calm disappeared like a cloud of smoke. It was the court clerk, standing in the open courtroom door, waiting for me to join him. I started to panic, just the thought of seeing those guys for the first time since that night. Being in the same room with them. I had to keep calm, and I was already thinking about jumping them and beating the shit out of them.

Which, of course, I couldn't, because after I testified, Bella would have to take her turn, and the thought of _her_ in there, alone, unprotected, made my skin fucking crawl. I had to be there for her, waiting for her.

 _"Mr. Cullen?"_ the clerk said impatiently. "It's time. Come with me. Now, please."

I slowly got up off the bench and turned to follow behind him.

"Ed-Edward?" I heard Bella say behind me. I turned around to see what she wanted, and she was standing right there, our faces only a couple of inches apart, and my world just fell away. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to hold her. But mostly, I just wanted ... _her_.

She lifted her hand, slowly, and placed it on my cheek, softly stroking my skin with her thumb. It was the sweetest thing any woman had ever done to me.

"Come back to me, okay?" she whispered. "Promise?"

I closed my eyes and leaned into her hand and nodded slowly. Then, I met her eyes and did as she asked.

"I promise," I whispered back, then turned and disappeared inside the courtroom.

* * *

 **AN: So do you like my beta's song? LibbyLou862! She wrote the lyrics for me, and it quite an amazing songwriter! I'll include the full lyrics of the entire song at the very end of the story.**

 **But he got to play it for her, just her, and maybe now she is becoming aware of how he feels for her? Who knows! You'll have to stay tuned!**

 **And the legal case is finally resolved and those sacks of shit got the book thrown at them - YES!**

 **Thanks again for reading, and have a great weekend! More on Monday!**

 **Di8**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 16**

 _She lifted her hand, slowly, and placed it on my cheek, softly stroking my skin with her thumb. It was the sweetest thing any woman had ever done to me._

 _"Come back to me, okay?" she whispered. "Promise?"_

 _I closed my eyes and leaned into her hand and nodded slowly. Then, I met her eyes and did as she asked._

 _"I promise," I whispered back, then turned and disappeared inside the courtroom._

* * *

Less than an hour later, we were done, back in the car, on the way back to my apartment.

The cocky little shits with their big money attorneys started crying like little girls when the jury foreman read the "guilty" verdicts. Across the board, all four of them, on all counts. They were going to be somebody's bitches for a very long time, and we couldn't be happier about it.

We were both so relieved to have that nightmare behind us. I worried that maybe things would change between us, that now that we didn't have the trial in common, that we would just drift out of each other's lives. That she wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore.

But nothing changed. Well, nothing changed in a bad way, that is. The experience, the shared trauma of that night and then the trial, well, it bonded us in a way that will never be broken. In one way or another, friends or… whatever, Bella would always be a part of my life.

* * *

The next few months brought more of the same, but it felt like something new every day, as long as I had her near me.

We worked at the bar together on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. I was starting to make a name for myself - just in town, but still. I had a lot of interest from the other clubs in the area, and I started working for them the other days of the week, but I was loyal to Garrett, and the weekends belonged to him. Well, as long as Bella was working, that is.

When we weren't working, we were always together. Going to movies, cooking dinner at my place… well, she cooked, I cleaned. I couldn't cook for shit. Just hanging out.

I was writing again, and it was some of the best shit I had ever written. Everything I did now had a thread of Bella in it, whether she realized it or not. And that extra emotion, the passion, well, it just brought me up to the next level. I felt better about myself and my music than I had in a long time.

But I was still in the fucking batter's box as far as getting Bella into my bed. I knew I was over-thinking it, but I worried that she would reject me, and our friendship would be impossible. Or worse, that she would lead me on, and then laugh at me like she did that one time in the green room.

But it was gonna be soon - it fucking _had_ to be. I had the worst case of blue balls, jacking off like twice a day, which is just ridiculous for a man my age. I was gonna make a move - I just had to wait until it felt right.

* * *

A couple of months later - a Saturday, a night I will never forget for so many reasons - the bar was packed, standing room only, and the energy in the room was off the charts. I was caught up in the vibe in the room, but I couldn't take my eyes off Bella.

I watched her walk around the bar as I played, weaving between customers, wearing that fucking tight white t-shirt again, tied up high, showing the skin of her midriff. So much fucking skin. More than I had ever seen before. And low-rise tight ass jeans. So fucking low that when she turned around, I could see the dimples right above her ass. It was like she was teasing me, taunting me.

I was obsessed. I was like a fucking stalker. All night, watching, staring, fantasizing. I was at the very end of what little control I had left.

I finished the second set, and I started to walk off stage, ready to be done, but the crowd starting chanting for an encore. Like really screaming, all of them. It was crazy. I had never had that happen to me before.

So I walked back up, and they cheered and clapped, egging me on.

I had no idea what to do for an encore - I never had to do one before. You're supposed to save the best song for last, and I already did that one. I was totally fucked. I couldn't play the same song again, that would be complete shit. I had to give them something new.

I starting thinking, and looking around the room, and I saw Bella. She was leaning against the back wall, just watching me, the sexist fucking smirk on her face I had ever seen. Jesus fucking Christ, just kill me already would you?

But then I had an idea.

"Baby girl," I said, meeting her eyes across the room, a slow grin blooming across my face, "this is for you."

 ** _I saw her in the crowd, watching me, watching me_**

 ** _Took her back, she's on her knees, she offered, it was free_**

She recognized the song immediately. I had played it for her so many times in my apartment, just the two of us, on my couch. That's what it felt like now. Just the two of us - everyone else just melted away.

 ** _I want to taste that filthy mouth, to touch each inch of skin_**

 ** _Your tight white T is killin me, oh baby let me in_**

 ** _I want to smell your flower, peel it open wide_**

 ** _I need to be a part of you, feel you deep inside_**

Before I even started singing, I could see her blush, all the way across the bar, her heaving chest, and God help me, her hard, tight nipples busting through that thin t-shirt. She knew the song, the lyrics, and I had to assume that she knew it was all about her. She was turned on, and I knew it. And she _knew_ I knew it.

 ** _Meet me in the green room, I'm twisted, wasted, pissed at you_**

 ** _I need you in the green room, I'm whipped and beaten, hard for you_**

 ** _I'm ready in the green room, baby, give it to me quick_**

 ** _Meet me in the green room, your flower ripe to pick_**

 ** _Baby, in the green room, bring your bloom to me_**

 ** _Meet me in the green room, baby, come with me…..._**

I finished the song, and the crowd erupted again in cheers and applause and calls for "more! more!"

But, no. No fucking way. Not this time.

I started to head backstage, waving to the screaming crowd, and just as I turned the corner, I looked over my shoulder and met Bella's eyes. I cocked my head towards the door I was walking through, a small, subtle movement, an invitation for her to join me. I hoped she got it, and I walked backstage.

I paced around the tiny room, like an animal in a cage, waiting, desperate that she got the message, that she wanted this as much as I did.

Then, just like that first night, she slammed the door open, so hard that it hit the back wall, and I was on her before she realized what was happening.

I grabbed her hands in mine and pinned them above her head. I moved one leg between hers and slowly rubbed my erection against her thigh.

I wanted her so fucking much, but I had to know.

"Bella," I groaned, trying not to just rub my hard dick all over her body and failing. "Tell me, baby, tell me it's okay, tell me you want this. Please don't tease me, don't do that to me again, please -"

"Oh _God_ , Edward," she exasperated. "Shut the _fuck_ up and kiss me, you big pussy!"

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for that cliffie, but we're getting towards the end! Just a few chapters left... maybe 20-21 in total.**

 **Thanks for sticking with me, thanks for reading, and thanks for all of the lovely comments!**

 **And thanks to my beta, LibbyLou862, my songwriter, my red ink, my RL BFF...**

 **See you Wednesday!**

 **Di8**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 17**

 _I wanted her so fucking much, but I had to know._

 _"Bella," I groaned, trying not to just rub my hard dick all over her body and failing. "Tell me, baby, tell me it's okay, tell me you want this. Please don't tease me, don't do that to me again, please -"_

 _"Oh God, Edward," she exasperated. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me you big pussy!"_

* * *

She pulled her hands from me and grabbed the back of my head, fingers weaving tightly in my hair, and, with a surprising amount of strength for such a tiny girl, pulled me to her, crushing our mouths together in a mash of lips and teeth. It fucking _hurt_ , but I wasn't about to complain, because I finally had the opportunity to get my tongue in her mouth, and, oh sweet Jesus, was it ever worth it.

She was sweet, so fucking sweet, and I never wanted it to stop. I couldn't get enough of the way she tasted. I finally had to take a breath, so I pulled away from her, just for a second. My eyes left hers and moved down hungrily to her lips, her neck, her heaving chest, and she let out the softest, sexiest moan I had ever heard.

I wanted to stop and just look at her, so I could watch her face while she made noises like that, but I didn't want to risk that she would suddenly change her mind, so I kissed her again, quickly. A little less angry, but still as desperate, both of us grabbing at each other, touching what we could touch. I wrapped my hands around her waist, and I pulled her tightly against me.

I buried my hand in her hair, keeping her face pressed against my own, and slid my hand up from around her waist. When I reached the side of her breast, she gasped a little in my mouth, and it made me lose control for a second, roughly grabbing at her small breast with my large hand. I easily found her hard little nipple underneath the thin fabric of her t-shirt, and I pinched and squeezed, rolling it in my fingers. She moaned louder, and the more I squeezed, the louder she moaned. She wrapped a leg around me and pulled me tightly against her.

It seemed as though we were finally on the same page, and I felt certain that I'd finally be getting my dick inside her in the very near future, but then I immediately felt guilty for thinking something like that about Bella. Weird.

We stood like that, leaning against the Green Room door, mouth-fucking and dry-humping, for several fabulous minutes.

At one point, I was kissing her neck, open-mouthed, tongue out and tasting, and she said something, something I couldn't quite make out.

"Mmmphhmm?" I mumbled, refusing to stop what I was doing to talk.

"The way you play," she whisper-moaned. "Fuck me, it's like… it's like sex."

Wait, _what_?

"Wait," I said, pulling back to look at her, both of us panting. " _What_?"

She smiled a little, a sexy little smirk that made my knees weak again, and I almost lost my balance.

"You play the guitar like you're fucking it," she panted, her eyes heavy and hooded with lust. "I wonder…"

" _What_?" I just couldn't seem to form words other than that one.

"I wonder… if you fuck like that."

Holy fucking shit. I mean, Jesus fucking Christ. How can she say shit like that to me and not expect me to jump her right there?

" _Fuck_ , Bella!" I said, almost angrily, taking a step back. "You can't fucking say shit like that to me!" I was panting, breathing hard. My body had processed her words in a fraction of a second and was responding, in kind. It felt like my dick was the hardest it had ever been in my life and was trying to rip through the fabric of my jeans to get to her. Needless to say, it was a little uncomfortable.

"Mmm, Edward," she moaned again, rendering me into a desperate puddle. "I want to be under that… under that aggression. I want you to fuck me like you play."

She was good with the dirty talk, and fuck, you didn't have to ask me twice.

"Fucking _hell_ ," I muttered, and I crushed my lips back on hers, mouths open, tongues searching. I pushed her legs open and rubbed my achingly hard cock against her, grinding my hips with hers.

I brought my mouth back to her neck, licking and sucking on the tender skin, and I whispered dirty in her ear, telling her how good she tasted, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted to fuck her.

Her hands were all over me, desperate, hungry - pulling on my shoulders, scratching my back through my shirt, pawing at my chest.

I slid my hand down until I was right between her legs, stroking softly over the fabric of her jeans, and I rubbed my middle finger back and forth against the middle seam as she squirmed against me. As she moaned into my ear, she moved her hand down my body until it was between my legs, warm and soft against hot and hard.

It was at that exact moment that we heard a loud knock at the door.

" _Go away_!" We screamed, in unison, our hands and mouths quickly returning to the mutual exploration of each other's bodies.

Despite our refusal to give permission to enter, the door opened anyway.

It was Garrett. It was his club, so I guess he had the right to come into the room, but that didn't make me any less pissed.

"What the _fuck_ , Garrett? Uh… I'm fucking _busy_ here!"

Garrett looked at Bella, then looked at me. He smiled a tiny knowing smile, then shook his head. He opened the door a little wider, and fuck me if he wasn't going away, that cock blocker.

"Edward," he said, clearing his throat. "This man would like to talk to you." Garrett gestured towards the door, and a young Asian man walked in, wearing a very expensive-looking navy suit over an old, faded Buzzcocks t-shirt. He couldn't have been more than Bella's age, but he exuded wealth and confidence and power. I hated him immediately.

"Uh, yeah, _thanks_ , Garrett," I said sarcastically. "But what the fuck, dude? Can I get back to my girl, here?" He obviously had no idea how long I had waited for that night. Of course, he also had no idea that Bella was my girl. And now that I thought about it, Bella probably didn't know she was my girl either, but I was hoping that after tonight, she would be.

The four of us were cramped in that tiny room, and it didn't take much for the guy to be right in front of me. He offered me his hand and smiled.

"Edward, nice to finally meet you." His teeth were very straight and very white. "Eric Takahashi, Artisan Records."

I wasn't really processing his words. My brain was still completely in my pants with the majority of my blood supply. But I took his proffered hand and shook it, waiting to see what the hell he wanted and how long it would take him to leave so I could get back to the business at hand, so to speak.

"Wait," I said, my head in a fog. "You're with who?"

"Artisan," he said smoothly, flashing those expensive teeth at me again, flipping a business card out of his pocket and into my hand like a magic trick. "Artisan Records."

He paused for a second, letting that settle in, and looked from me to Bella, then back to me, waiting for me to react, to say something, anything.

And he just kept on smiling.

I looked down at the card in my hand, and for some reason, the logo printed on the card clicked with me. I suddenly realized who he was, and my heart started to pound. I wrapped my arm tightly around Bella so I wouldn't collapse on the spot. It was just another executive on a fishing trip, I told myself. It was nothing. Don't overthink it, don't get yourself excited for nothing, don't-

He laughed a little and shook his head.

"Edward, a friend of mine told me about you, which is why I'm here. I caught your set tonight, and I have to tell you, I love your sound. I love your look. I love your energy. Hell, I love everything about you."

Wait, was he just another guy trying to weasel his way into a personal relationship with me? He wouldn't be the first gay man trying to get into my pants, and he wouldn't be the last who I told no.

"Uh, thanks man," I said, running my hand through my hair. "But, I, uh…"

And then he said the words that changed my life.

"Edward, I'd like to talk with you about a recording contract."

 **THE END**

* * *

 **AN: Okay, not really the end, so don't panic. It's the natural end of the story, from my viewpoint, but then I couldn't leave it there. So there will be 3-4 more epilogue chapters. So a total of like 21, I think.**

 **It's so interesting to me when y'all guess what's going to happen, other than the obvious... I mean, I WANT to tell you that you're right, but I can't blow the surprise! But just know that I WANTED to... :)**

 **More fun to come, but I can't tell you what! You'll just have to stay tuned!**

 **Thanks again to all of you for reading and for your kind and thoughtful comments. I truly appreciate you all!**

 **Continued thanks and appreciation to my fabulous beta, LibbyLou862, for crossing my t's and dotting my i's and so much more!**

 **And PS - stay warm everybody! BRRR!**

 **Di8**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 18 - EPILOGUE, Part 1**

 _"Edward, a friend of mine told me about you, which is why I'm here. I caught your set tonight, and I have to tell you, I love your sound. I love your look. I love your energy. Hell, I love everything about you."_

 _Wait, was he just another guy trying to weasel his way into a personal relationship with me? He wouldn't be the first gay man trying to get into my pants, and he wouldn't be the last who I told no._

 _"Uh, thanks man," I said, running my hand through my hair. "But, I, uh…"_

 _And then he said the words that changed my life._

 _"Edward, I'd like to talk with you about a recording contract."_

* * *

"Oh fuck, baby, _fuck_ ," I moaned. "Right there, right fucking there."

It was another late night, another hotel room, another city, I couldn't tell you where, and with Edward's tongue dancing between my legs, I couldn't even remember my name.

"Yes, _shit_ , Edward!" I screamed. "One more, baby, c'mon," I begged, grabbing the sheets in my fists like a porn star. "One more finger."

I pulled my legs up, just to give him a little more room to work, and he fucking growled, long and low, like he was eating me alive. Like a fucking _animal_. I mean, holy shit, I almost came right there, just from the sound alone. He took orders well and slid a second finger inside me, slowly fucking me with it while he flicked his tongue across my clit, just the way I liked it. It wouldn't be long now - the freight train was coming, pun completely intended, into the station.

That man rocked my fucking world, every single day - sometimes two or three times a day if I was extra bad, as he would say - since that night in the Green Room.

That night we met the man from Artisan Records.

That night that our lives began together.

* * *

"Is this it?" Edward asked our driver nervously as we slowed down at a crowded intersection.

We were in the back of a sleek, black Town Car, and the driver, the chauffeur I guess you would call him, had picked us up at the Seattle airport. Edward had his first meeting with the A&R team at Artisan Records to discuss his contract.

He was so nervous. I had never seen him like that, so unsure of himself. He was always so cocky, so confrontational, never holding back. I kind of thought it was funny, and I wanted to tease him a little, but I kept it to myself. This contract, his career, was important to him, so it was important to me.

Since we boarded the flight that morning, he'd been a fucking wreck and couldn't seem to hold still. He paced non-stop in the airport, back and forth in front of our gate, muttering to himself like a crazy man, and quickly glancing my way with each pass. It was like he had to reassure himself that I was still there, that I was still his.

I kept telling him I was.

His leg was bouncing at a rapid pace, and it was driving me fucking insane, so I placed my hand on his knee, gently, just to calm him.

"Edward," I said quietly. He immediately stopped fidgeting and turned to look at me. "Hey, baby," I said with a soft smile. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, a little sheepishly. "Just nervous. I don't know what to expect, you know?" He covered my hand with his, a soft, sweet gesture that I was still getting used to. "I've just got it in the back of my mind that this is all some kind of scheme, that they're gonna fucking rip me off, or laugh at me and send me home like a pussy."

When he said "pussy," he turned his head quickly towards the driver.

"Uh, sorry, dude," he said.

The driver snickered.

"No problem, Sir."

"Edward, I don't think you need to worry," I said gently. I felt like I was talking a five-year old down from the monkey bars. "I think this Eric dude is the real deal. And you know," I said, moving my hand a little higher up his thigh, "you're in the big leagues now. You are the mother-fucking shit. I know it, they know it, and - admit it - you fucking know it too."

I moved my hand until it was resting between his legs, not moving, just covering his heat with my own. I was confident that sex, or talking about sex, or just _insinuating_ sex would be enough to temporarily distract him.

He looked down at my hand for several long seconds, then gave me the combo lopsided-grin-cocked-eyebrow look that went straight between my legs.

"You," he said, as he kissed me soft and slow. "You are in big fucking trouble when we get to the hotel." He pressed his lips against mine again, his tongue slipping inside my mouth just enough to make me want more. "You better be ready for me."

"I'm always ready for you, baby," I whispered. "Wanna feel?"

Before he could even process what I had said, the car pulled over and stopped, parking in front of an enormous glass building. The driver turned off the car, then turned to face us.

"We're here, Mr. Cullen."

* * *

Three years and several tours later, and Edward Cullen was a star.

Eric turned out to be Edward's biggest advocate. He was completely honest with him on every detail, prepared him in advance for each step in the process so that he would have a realistic sense of what to expect, and set him up with an incredible support team, an interesting mix of people who eventually became our best friends.

Jasper Whitlock was first on the team, Edward's manager. He was the strangest guy, but super cool too. Soft spoken and Texas southern to the core, Jasper exuded confidence and calm, two things that Edward desperately needed during those early days. I'm not sure how we would have made it through all of it without him. Jasper worked with Eric to find the perfect backing band for Edward, even though he still liked to perform several songs with just his acoustic guitar and a mic. He played with the same band on all of the studio recordings, as well as for the songs on tour that required a fuller sound.

Then, Jasper brought along the rest of the team.

Emmett McCarty was in charge of all security, but specifically, Edward's personal security - Edward _literally_ trusted Emmett with his life. Emmett was a huge dude with a great sense of humor, but he knew his shit, and when he needed to be serious, he was completely scary and on point. We definitely had our share of close calls since Ed hit it big, but Emmett and his team kicked some major ass. We never worried for a minute.

Rosalie Hale, a tall, gorgeous, leggy blonde, was the tour manager, which basically meant that she was in charge of everything - all logistics for the tours and all concerts, including travel, equipment transportation, tour staff and crew, promotions, and a million other things that I didn't want to know about. She was phenomenally organized and cracked a serious whip. She was also Emmett's girlfriend, and their relationship was the source of constant amusement for the rest of us. Basically, Rosalie wore the pants and told Emmett what to do, how, and when, and he did anything she wanted. As tough and strong as he was with security, he was a complete pussy when it came to Rose. Basically, as she explained it to us one night, "if he ever wants to see me naked again, he'll do what I want." That man was supremely whipped, and he couldn't be happier about it.

Last, but not least, was Alice Brandon, Edward's stylist and my new best girlfriend.

* * *

 **AN: This is the first part of a 3 part Epilogue. Then, we'll be REALLY done. :)**

 **Thanks again for reading. I appreciate you all.**

 **And thanks as always to my beta, LibbyLou862.**

 **Have a great weekend... see you Monday!**

 **Di8**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 19**

 _Then, Jasper brought along the rest of the team._

 _Emmett McCarty was in charge of all security, but specifically, Edward's personal security - Edward literally trusted Emmett with his life. Emmett was a huge dude with a great sense of humor, but he knew his shit, and when he needed to be serious, he was completely scary and on point. We definitely had our share of close calls since Ed hit it big, but Emmett and his team kicked some major ass. We never worried for a minute._

 _Rosalie Hale, a tall, gorgeous, leggy blonde, was the tour manager, which basically meant that she was in charge of everything - all logistics for the tours and all concerts, including travel, equipment transportation, tour staff and crew, promotions, and a million other things that I didn't want to know about. She was phenomenally organized and cracked a serious whip. She was also Emmett's girlfriend, and their relationship was the source of constant amusement for the rest of us. Basically, Rosalie wore the pants and told Emmett what to do, how, and when, and he did anything she wanted. As tough and strong as he was with security, he was a complete pussy when it came to Rose. Basically, as she explained it to us one night, "if he ever wants to see me naked again, he'll do what I want." That man was supremely whipped, and he couldn't be happier about it._

 _Last, but not least, was Alice Brandon, Edward's stylist and my new best girlfriend._

* * *

I remember so vividly the day Jasper introduced Alice to Edward for the first time. It was as if he were speaking another language - it took Jasper several tries to make Edward understand just the very basics of who Alice was and what she did, followed by almost a full hour of very loud, heated discussions about _why_ Edward needed a stylist.

Edward finally agreed, but very begrudgingly. She needed a full set of measurements, clothing sizes, and pictures of him from every angle in order to get started, and he pouted like a 5-year old the entire time. I sat in the corner and giggled. Alice couldn't help but hear me, and she kept laughing with me, winking at me repeatedly. I think we became instant friends right then and there.

Alice was a tiny sprite of a girl with a huge, infectious grin and an almost endless supply of energy. She was absolutely beautiful, with spiky black hair and perfectly applied makeup, and had the most interesting, eclectic wardrobe of any person we knew. After Edward got to know Alice, he loved her as much as I did, and he started calling her "Tink," short for Tinkerbell. I wasn't ever ever sure if it was because of her size or because of the magic she worked, but Alice seemed to love the nickname, and it stuck.

What she did for Edward was truly an art, and she was so subtle in her execution that, if you knew Edward pre-Alice, you would be hard-pressed to put your finger on exactly _what_ she had changed about him, just that he looked _better_. After their initial meetings, Alice disappeared for a few weeks. No calls, no texts, no questions. She reappeared one day in the main conference room at Artisan, plugged her laptop into the room's projection system, and turned off the lights.

Forty-five minutes later, we were all speechless, even Jasper. He had worked with her before, but he told us later that he was always amazed at her initial consultation presentations, and that most of his clients had the same reaction as Edward.

Her changes were all exceptionally subtle, but so perfectly executed that Edward's hotness quotient increased exponentially, which even _I_ didn't think was possible. He still wore a t-shirt and jeans to perform, and his hair was still long, his face unshaven, but the newly packaged Edward was utter perfection.

His new t-shirts were slightly smaller and more tailored. Still completely comfortable, but with a trimmer fit and shorter, tighter sleeves. They showed off the muscles in his arms, the tatts, and his fucking ripped-up abdomen, a constant source of arousal for me. The colors were variations of white, gray, navy, and black, but slightly different, newer hues to make them more interesting. They were all generally solid colors, but she also included a few classic band logos with a retro feel. And they were all made of the softest fucking cotton I had ever felt in my life. I liked to wear them to bed, where they unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it) never lasted long - they would be quickly removed from my body by my sex-obsessed boyfriend.

His new jeans were tighter in the waist and ass, and they rode lower on his hips, almost low enough to be indecent, and they showed _everything_ \- the muscular cuts along his hip bones, the vertical line of copper hair starting at his navel and disappearing into his waistband, and the manscaping which allowed his jeans to ride as low as they did without flashing inappropriate body hair. When he would get dressed in whatever hotel room we were in, he'd always put these jeans on first, and he always looked so fucking hot, barefoot and shirtless, that I would often sneak up behind him and wrap my hands around his naked torso, touching everything I could touch. Edward was late for several shows just because of those fucking jeans and what they did for me.

Alice had Edward groomed as well, which was a _huge_ fight between them, but Alice came out on top, as she always did. She trimmed his hair, shaped it a bit, but let it hang long and loose, the way Edward liked it. She also suggested that Edward trade in the unshaved beard look and try out a goatee instead. The goatee was somewhat passe', but since Edward was a little older than the rest of the "new upcomers" group, it really seemed to work for him. He shaved his beard growth the same night Alice mentioned it, and we both fell in love with the new look immediately. We had some fucking amazing goatee sex that night.

Lastly, Alice threw in some accessories as well, which helped pull everything together into "his rockstar look," as she put it: a black studded belt; a worn leather bomber jacket; a pair of thick, black sunglasses for outside concerts; a long, soft, woven scarf in muted colors; a small, thin, gold hoop in his left ear; and a necklace that I had given him - approved by Alice - a small metal tag hanging on a simple black leather cord, with a small but simple engraving: the date that Edward got discovered, and, coincidentally, the night we first fucked. That date was actually so much more to us, but we were both fairly private people when it came to really deep emotions, and it was easier. Also, Edward really loved to tell people that when he was drunk.

His team, our friends, they all worked their asses off to make sure that Edward was successful in every way - that he looked great, sounded great, and honored his commitments. He treated them all with respect and had a good sense of when he needed to be professional and when he could just kick back and be Edward.

He was a huge rockstar now, and we all enjoyed the ride.

* * *

" _Jesus Fucking Christ,_ _Edward_!" Rosalie screeched from the far side of the limousine. "Can't you keep your hands off of her for _ten-fucking-minutes_?"

We had just left the arena in the stretch limo that the record company provided. It was supposed to just be for Edward (and me, of course), but he always invited Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper because it seemed ridiculous to waste that huge limousine every night and, he really wanted to share everything with his new friends. But after a show, Edward was super-high on endorphins, full of excess energy, and horny as a 13-year old with this first boner. Edward was wrapped around me on the other side of the limo, his hands and mouth all over me from the second we climbed in. Rosalie was _not_ amused.

Edward countered her comment by slapping my ass and pulling me completely onto his lap. I screamed in delight, giggling like a teenager, and straddled him with my back to the group. I smiled into his neck - it was like we were alone. Like we were the only ones there. So I rode him, slow and hard, with absolutely no concern for who was watching.

"I think it's kinda hot," Emmett offered in his brash, loud voice.

Rosalie must have hit him then because I heard a loud slap, followed by Rosalie's trademark gutter mouth. It was endearing in an interesting sort of way.

"Bella, you have _no fucking self-respect_. I _swear_ ," Rosalie said again. Everyone laughed except Rose. Then, Edward peeked his head around me so he could look at her, flipped her off, and settled the argument.

"Fuck off, Rose," he mumbled, then shoved his hands into the back of my pants, grabbing handfuls of my ass and pulling me roughly against his cock.

* * *

 **AN:**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 20**

 _Rosalie must have hit him then because I heard a loud slap, followed by Rosalie's trademark gutter mouth. It was endearing in an interesting sort of way._

 _"Bella, you have no fucking self-respect. I swear," Rosalie said again. Everyone laughed except Rose. Then, Edward peeked his head around me so he could look at her, flipped her off, and settled the argument._

 _"Fuck off, Rose," he mumbled, then shoved his hands into the back of my pants, grabbing handfuls of my ass and pulling me roughly against his cock._

* * *

Edward was just finishing up his first international tour, which was crazy successful. He was a huge star now, a true rockstar, and even better, he was all mine.

About halfway through Edward's first tour, his fans had started doing this cool thing with his finale song, the dirty one he wrote for me, and it just starting catching on from city to city, a little bigger each time: It was always just him and his guitar, standing center stage, with a single spotlight. The crowd would quiet down, and Edward would hit the first chords of the song. The crowd would go insane. They knew what was coming… it was their absolute favorite song, the one they had been waiting for, the one he was singing just for them.

The first line of the song was "I saw her in the crowd, watching me, watching me" but once the thing started, he stopped singing that line, because the crowd was singing it for him - except they would sing "You saw _me_ in the crowd, watching you, watching you." And they sang it _to_ Edward, like the song was about them. Then, Edward would pause while they screamed some more. He really liked when they did that. He felt so connected to his fans, like he was personally singing to each and every person in the crowd.

I loved standing backstage watching him perform. For some reason, it felt much more personal that way, like it was just the two of us again, back in his crappy old apartment after his injury, and not in some giant sports arena in the middle of the country.

Every now and then, he would turn and look at me, with a crooked smile and a wink, and I would smile back, silently promising him anything he fucking wanted when we got back to the hotel. It would be all I could do to keep my hands off of him, especially in front of the throng of fans standing next to me who had managed to score backstage passes, all proudly worn around their necks.

Early on in the tour, the girls didn't know who I was yet, and we would all stand together in the wings, waiting for Edward to finish the finale and walk offstage. It was fun, being anonymous, listening to their conversations, their hopes and dreams, knowing full well that I was the lucky fucker who would get to take Edward to bed that night. But hell, I kept my mouth shut and let 'em dream.

One night, the last night that my name was unknown to the world, he walked offstage at the end of his show… well, "walked" wasn't exactly right. He "stalked"... head down, eyes up, searching... sex oozing out of every pore. He looked like a predator looking for prey, and, at that moment, I was putty in his hands right along with the girls who surrounded me.

The closer he got, the louder their nervous giggling became, and as he swept his eyes across our little group, you knew that each one of those girls thought that they had a shot, that Edward might pick them out as his conquest for the night, and with any luck, his future girlfriend. However, there were no nightly conquests, there was only me, and their dreams were dashed instantly as he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me away from the crowd. He pulled me into his body and kissed me hard, bending me back like a post-WWII poster girl, then he looked up at all the girls watching us, and he winked at them. I think I actually _heard_ them swoon at that point, but then he was kissing me again, sneaking peeks at the girls while he did. It was kinda hot, being watching like that, and Edward wasn't holding back at all.

That night, I was all over the internet as "Edward Cullen's new girl toy." Who makes this shit up, anyway?

* * *

"Fuck, baby," Edward groaned as we entered our hotel room, trying to tear my clothes off before the door closed. "Two weeks. Two fucking weeks without you. Never again, baby, okay? Never again."

We were buying a house in Los Angeles, and I stayed behind to do the closing and get all the pieces and parts moving - the movers, designers, decorators, etc. I wanted Edward to come back to a complete home when he was done with his tour.

We were halfway to the bed when I stopped him.

"Wait, Edward," I said, panting, trying to catch my breath. He had his hands inside the front of my jeans and was trying to take them off. I had to stop him, but Oh God, the way he was touching me, I was falling down the rabbit hole fast.

I had planned a secret surprise for him once we were back together, and I wanted to… well... _present_ it to him, and fucking against the hotel room door was not what I had in mind.

He was licking and sucking on my neck, and he lifted up just long enough to mumble, "no fucking way… waited too long," so I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away, hard. He looked up at me, surprised and confused, and he lost his balance a little, stumbling backwards towards the couch.

"What the fuck, Bella?" he said, sounding more hurt than mad.

I pushed him one more time, while his balance was still off, just enough to land him in a sitting position on the couch, and then I stepped back. He just wordlessly looked up at me, slowly shaking his head, eyebrows furrowed, so confused and so adorable.

"I told you I had a surprise for you," I said coyly, biting the corner of my lip and matching his deep, intense gaze, standing just out of his reach.

He grinned as he slowly realized that something special was in store for him, and he sat back on the couch and waited patiently, opening his legs, draping one arm casually on the back of the couch, and the other between his legs - his hand resting on his obvious erection.

He looked so fucking hot like that. Cocky, relaxed, turned on. That was the Edward I knew, the Edward I fell in love with in the green room.

I smiled back at him and slowly turned around until my back was to him. I slid my t-shirt up and over my head, then quickly popped the button on my jeans, swaying gently to the music playing in the background. I lowered the zipper and sneaked a look over my shoulder. He was entranced, watching my every move and slowly rubbing his cock between his legs.

I grabbed the waistband of my jeans on both hips and shimmied them to the floor, kicking them out of my way. I wasn't wearing underwear, and from the grunts and moans I heard coming from the couch, I knew I didn't have much time left.

"Now, close your eyes," I teased, again over my shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow at me, reminding me of his rapidly dwindling patience level, but then quickly complied, eager for his prize. I turned around to face him, only a few feet away, positioning my body so he could see it all.

"Okay, baby... open up," I said softly.

He slowly opened his eyes, briefly meeting mine, then landed between my legs. He sucked in a small breath.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry about the no author note last chapter thing... I was in a hurry to post, and I completely forgot about it! And it's too much of a pain in the ass to correct something after you post, so I just blew it off. I figured you'd understand, being as yall are so freaking AWESOME!**

 **So yeah, 2 chapters in 2 days... And then TOMORROW, you'll get the LAST, FINAL chapter... so that's 3 chapters in 3 days! I wanna go out with a bang, so to speak... Don't we all?!**

 **So... what do you think her surprise is?**

 **Thank you again, all of you, for being such interested, intelligent, fun, and funny readers! I've loved our interaction.**

 **Thank you as always to my BFF/beta extraordinaire (and songwriter!) LibbyLou862! Full lyrics of the song at the end of the last chapter. Help me to encourage Libby to finish the song, write the music, and record it, and then I'll share it with you all!**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **D**


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: LAST CHAPTER YALL! Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 21**

 _"Now, close your eyes," I teased, again over my shoulder._

 _He raised an eyebrow at me, reminding me of his rapidly dwindling patience level, but then quickly complied, eager for his prize. I turned around to face him, only a few feet away, positioning my body so he could see it all._

 _"Okay, baby... open up," I said softly._

 _He slowly opened his eyes, briefly meeting mine, then landed between my legs. He sucked in a small breath._

* * *

It was a delicate, beautiful flower, a tiger lily, colorfully tattooed along my lower belly, with flowering tendrils running across each hip. The main bloom was centered between my legs, the petals pulling open right above my pussy.

 _"I want to smell your flower, peel it open wide,"_ he sang in a hoarse whisper and dropped to his knees before me. So fucking sexy. He wrapped his arms around my hips and pulled me close, until my naked body was pressed against his torso. He tenderly kissed my stomach, looked up at me through his beautiful, dark lashes, and pulled back to look at his surprise.

"Can I touch?" he asked hesitantly.

"That's the fucking point, Edward," I whipped back at him.

"Bella…" he warned.

"Sorry, baby," I laughed. "You know I love to wind you up. Yes, you can touch. It's healed enough."

He unwound his arms from around my body and sat back on his heels so that he was eye level with the tattoo. He reached out with a single fingertip and reverently traced the outlines of the ink, moving from hip to hip, then back to the bloom between my legs.

I was so turned on already - just fucking waiting for him to walk through the door and wondering what he would think, what he would do - that when he slid his finger down further, I was slick and warm.

I gasped. I mean, I knew it was coming, I knew he was about to touch me, but his finger just felt so fucking _good_.

"You like that?" he teased, sliding his finger back and forth between the lips of my pussy, barely grazing my clit with each pass.

"Oh baby," I groaned, "you know I do."

He removed his finger and wiped the wetness across my newly inked skin, leaving a shiny streak across the flower. He leaned down and licked my skin clean, then twisted me around until I was splayed out on the couch and he was on his knees in front of me.

And damn, that man never wasted any time. Before I even realized I was sitting, he had buried his face between my legs, his lips and tongue and fingers working that Edward Cullen magic until I was screaming out my orgasm for the entire hotel floor to hear.

Then, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and tossed my body on the bed. He walked around the bed, from side to side, pacing like an animal, staring down at my body.

"Open," he growled, gesturing towards my legs. "Show me my present."

So I did. I spread my legs for him, as wide as he wanted, and then some. This was all for him, and I wanted him to completely enjoy everything about that night.

He fucked me hard, and he fucked me long. He fucked me every single way that one person can fuck another person. We took turns going down on each other, then we'd start all over again. In all the years we had been together, I had never come so many times in one damn night. It was fucking _glorious_.

"So," I panted, lying on the bed after, trying desperately to catch my breath. "You like your present, then?"

He turned and looked at me and grinned.

"Uh, yeah, baby," he laughed. "I'd say I liked it okay."

He climbed out of bed and walked to the couch, digging through the pile of clothes on the floor until he found his jeans.

"Actually, I have something for you as well." He sat on the edge of the bed and rooted around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for. "Now, close your eyes like a good girl."

I gave him back the same cocked eyebrow that he had given me earlier, but fuck it, I was ready for _my_ present now, so I did what he asked. I could hear him moving around a bit, but I waited for his permission to open my eyes.

"Okay, baby, open up."

He was… he was... fuck, he was on one knee on the side of the bed, looking up at me, and he was holding a small, black velvet box, opened to reveal the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen. It was in the shape of a flower… a blooming, open flower. There was a large round diamond in the middle, surrounded by layers of rose gold, yellow gold, and white gold petals, each sprinkled with tiny diamonds. Smaller petals extended halfway down the sides of the ring to complete the effect.

I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. For the first time in my entire life, I was speechless. We had both given each other a flower as a sign of commitment.

"Bella," he said, suddenly very serious, "I love you and only you. You are my inspiration in all things. I want to spend the rest of my fucking life with you, making music, making love, and eventually, making babies." He laughed a bit, but still nervous as hell. I fucking loved it. "Will you marry me?"

I starting nodding, smiling, crying, laughing, all at the same time. I couldn't imagine ever being this happy, and there was never any doubt as to my answer.

"Of course, I'll marry you, you fucking idiot! I fucking love you!" And I leaped across the bed and into his arms, into the arms of my now-fiance. Holy shit. I was engaged.

I pulled back to look at his beautiful face, smiling back at me with the same pure joy that I was feeling too.

"I love you, Bella," he said sweetly, then kissed me so softly, so gently.

"I love you too, Edward Cullen," I said just as sweetly, before I swiped the box out of his hand. "Now, give me my fucking ring."

 **THE END (Really)**

* * *

 **AN: Yep, so an HEA, as promised!**

 **So many of you guessed it was a tattoo... I suppose that was a little obvious, but what the hell, I still love it! And I hope you do too!**

 **So a small explanation... After I finished the main part of the story, the original end with Edward getting a recording contract (which was ALWAYS where this story was going to end), I realized that they had never had sex! And I couldn't have that! I mean, life is better with lemons, right? So the Epilogue, which ended up being 3 chapters long!, was solely to provide some Rockstar sex for you... Hope you are now happy and sated!**

 **Thank you to all of you... everyone who read, commented, messaged me... I truly appreciate you all, throughout the entire process. If you're sad that it's over, you can always go back to chapter 1 and start over, hahaha! Or read some of my other stories (they are ALL very very tart!).**

 **Thank you endless thanks to my beta and BFF LibbyLou862, and the writer of the "Green Room" song lyrics. I'm really hoping that Libby will write the matching music one day and then we'll have a real song! Love you Libby!**

 **Well, okay. I'm so glad we had this time, togetherrrrrrrrr. No really. Thank you all.**

 **Hopefully, I'll see you all again one day. Keep in touch. :)**

 **THE GREEN ROOM (lyrics by LibbyLou862)**

 _I saw her in the crowd, watching me, watching me_

 _Took her back, she's on her knees, she offered, it was free_

 _She busted in and caught me, that fire in her eyes_

 _Tight lil body lookin' so hot, took me by surprise_

 **CHORUS:**

 _In the green room baby, give it to me quick_

 _Back in the green room, your flower's mine to pick_

 _I want to taste that filthy mouth, to touch each inch of skin_

 _Your tight white T is killin' me, oh baby let me in_

 _I want to smell your flower, peel it open wide_

 _I need to be a part of you, feel you deep inside_

 **CHORUS:**

 _In the green room baby, give it to me quick_

 _Back in the green room, baby, your flower's mine to pick_

 **BRIDGE:**

 _I wanna make you sweat and scream, you're so far away_

 _Holding back just ain't my style, will you walk away?_

 _I hate you. I need you, I've gotta have you._

 _What can I do? I'm losing my mind_

 _It's gotta be tonight, watching you, watching me_

 _Can't wait to make my move tonight, watching you, watching me_

 **FINAL CHORUS:**

 _Meet me in the green room, I'm twisted, wasted, pissed at you_

 _I need you in the green room, I'm whipped and beaten, hard for you_

 _I'm ready in the green room, baby, give it to me quick_

 _Meet me in the green room, your flower ripe to pick_

 _Baby, in the green room, bring your bloom to me_

 _Meet me in the green room, baby, come with me…..._


End file.
